


Doppelgangers

by femshep31



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alien Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Major Original Character(s), Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 89,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femshep31/pseuds/femshep31
Summary: After Lieutenant Vega stumbles across the doppelgangers of Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, the two look-a-likes are hired to help protect the Citadel Council when an assassination plot is uncovered. Original story and characters based on the Mass Effect game series. Rated M for adult language, themes and/or suggestions. New chapter posted ~Monday nights -- would love reviews, comments, critiques, suggestions.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Original Female Human Character(s)/Original Male Turian Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Discovered

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

"Make it a double," James called to the waitress who just took his order. Her only response was a sneering eyeroll. _Must be the end of her shift_ , he thought. _Who wouldn't be jumping for joy to spend time with me?_

Several minutes passed and the asari woman was still nowhere to be seen. James was about ready to start fuming. This was his one night of shore leave for the week and he did not want to spend it waiting all night for his drink.

"Hold up, hot stuff." A firm human hand pushed him back into his seat just as he began to stand. "Got your drink right here," the woman seemed to smile at him from the corner of her eye. He couldn't tell if it was the just the makeup and the lighting, but she seemed rather pretty. Too pretty to be working in a bar. Before she could walk away, he covered her hand in his own.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he drawled, putting on his most charming smile.

"I think, sir, you are confusing me with your long-awaited beverage," she winked. She tried to pull away, but the man seemed suddenly glued to her. She whispered, "I have a break in an hour. If you're still here then, I'll find you, deal?"

"Not if I find you first," he replied, releasing her from his grip. She rolled her eyes and smiled before swishing away.

James spent the next agonizingly slow hour weighing his chances of successfully wooing the intriguing waitress if she was only an hour into her shift and he was due back on the ship by 0800. He focused on the glimpses he caught of her bent over near a customer while pointing out something on the menu, laughing and smiling with the bartender, once even lurking in a dark corner to adjust her cleavage--anything to keep at bay the darkness that always seemed to haunt him.

Eventually, the time had finally passed and now he couldn't find her. _Great_ , he grumbled to himself, rolling the tension from his shoulders.

"Mm," a feminine voice purred in his ear, fingers caressing his deltoids. "I've wanted to do this since I set eyes on you." She continued over his shoulders and down his biceps. Recognizing her voice, James closed his eyes to savor her sensual touch.

"Oh honey, why are you so tense?" she asked, her tone matching her chosen term of endearment. All James could say in response came out in a muffled groan. Her hands returned up his arms to knead the pressure points at the top of his back, just above his shoulder blades.

“No reason?” she prompted, the curiosity in her words accompanied by the strangest sensation that she understood his troubles.

James cleared his throat and blinked his eyes a couple times, almost lulled to sleep by the rhythm of her hands and her voice. “My apologies. It’s our first shore leave in weeks and it seems I’m always cleaning up after the rest of the crew—on the battlefield and in the mess hall. I don’t like to complain but a man can only do so much, ¿me entiendes?”

“Mm,” she murmured again, moving to massage his neck. “It sounds like you take great care to ensure the safety of others. That certainly takes a toll on you, both physically and mentally.”

His head began to droop again. A comfortable silence began to stretch between them. James could feel the memories he always tried to suppress being pulled by the woman’s easy tone and gentle hands from the corners of his mind to center stage. Perhaps he _could_ begin the path to accepting what had happened, recognizing the good that had ultimately prevailed despite his failure. But their faces, April and Christine, frozen in horror on the ground then deathly peaceful in the Collector’s pods, sprang to the forefront, as sharp a wound today as the day he first experienced it. James pulled away from the hateful memory and away from the soothing hands eliciting such a strange reaction. His eyes flew open, breathing erratically, with palms splayed on the table in front of him.

The woman standing behind him froze, but not from shock. It seemed she was familiar with this kind of response and merely paused to give him a moment to catch his breath. When his movements began to calm, she sat down in the chair next to him. He couldn’t look her in the eye, not yet.

“You have known great pain of heart,” she began softly. “You blame yourself for something tragic, and the consequences of your choice so many years ago still torture you.” She moved to place her hand on top of his but stopped just before her skin connected with his. “May I?” she asked with tender concern.

After a brief nod from the muscular man beside her, she placed her hand on his then gripped his fingers, gentle yet strong. He heard the smile in her voice when she again spoke. “Holding on to the pain will only continue to invite it more fully into your heart. Perhaps we could continue this conversation later—and broach more pleasant topics as well?”

Her question hung in the air as James gathered his wits and his courage. _What an odd way to flirt_ , he thought, _if that’s what this was_. He didn’t think he wanted to experience that sensation ever again, yet he had so many questions about how she’d managed to shine a light on the darkest shadows of his mind. Besides, perhaps he could bring out an equally visceral reaction from her—in bed. James began to nod before the thought had fully formed in his head.

“I think I’d like that,” he agreed, finally looking into her eyes. _Shit_.

He was sitting across from his CO: Shepard.

Shepard looked puzzled when his jaw dropped open. Recovering, James smirked, “You really got me good this time, Lola.” He laughed off a twinge of embarrassment.

The crease in her brow deepened. “Lola? Who’s Lola?”

“Oh, come on, now, Commander. You’ve been flirting with me since we met but this is above and beyond what I ever expected.”

“Believe me, I really have no idea who or what you’re talking about,” she insisted. “My name is Cass and if I’d been flirting with you for weeks, we would’ve made it out of the bar way before now.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

_Shepard doesn’t do mischief_ , James thought. It was his turn to be puzzled. He hadn’t had that much to drink so James didn’t think he was hallucinating. “Impossible,” he trailed off, wondering. “Wait! Let me see your right eye.”

The woman seemed taken aback but, all the same, turned in her seat to show him the right side of her face. James leaned in close. “Unbelievable,” he breathed. _There’s no scar_. He sat back heavily in his seat.

Inquisitive eyes looked pointedly at him from flawless skin, the barest hint of a smile playing on her lips. That was an expression he had never seen on the face of his commanding officer.

“Damn,” he began. “I don’t even know where to start. Have you ever heard of Commander Shepard?”

Smile brightening, she nodded her head vigorously. “She’s such an inspiring woman!”

An eyebrow quirked up on James’ face. “But you’ve never seen a likeness of her?”

This earned him a disappointed frown with an accompanying head shake. “I’d really like to meet her,” Cass sighed wistfully.

“Oh honey,” he borrowed her term of endearment. “All you’ve gotta do is look in the mirror. Mira, Commander Ember Shepard is kind of my boss, so I see her pretty regular. The only difference between your face and hers is a scar at the top of her cheekbone.” He touched the spot on her cheek of the would-be scar.

Her mouth dropped open now, eyes wide and disbelieving. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” James shook his head, chuckling. “I had no idea! I mean, the woman is only my second-biggest role model! This is…this is insane!”

“Agreed,” James smirked. “Well. Now that we’ve established we don’t actually know each other, perhaps I can introduce myself? My name’s Vega, Lieutenant James Vega.”

She smiled shyly, “And I’m Cassana, but I go by Cass.” She glanced at the clock. “Shit, I’m also late! It was lovely to meet you, James, but I have to go! I’d love to see you again?” the question called out over her shoulder as she hurried away.

James didn’t even get the chance to impress her with his muscles to secure a second meet-up. _What a strange night_ , he thought, shaking his head. He pulled up his omni-tool and saw a message from Steve Cortez. Based on the number of sad faces, must be an anniversary of some kind for him and his late husband. _Better go rescue him from whatever mental hellhole he’s slipped into_.

Habitually rolling his shoulders as he got to his feet, James noticed his back was less tense than normal. That girl certainly knows how to use her hands.

Strolling down the hallways of the Upper Wards, James made his way to Chora’s Den where Cortez had gone to drown his sorrows. _Poor guy_. His own MO for dodging regret also involved drinking but, unlike Steve, James used the alcohol as liquid courage—not that he needed it—to pick up a chick. Working up a sweat in the bedroom always led to a night of dreamless sleep. That was the only place he could really escape the guilt that gnawed at him day in and day out.

Lost in his thoughts, James stepped off the elevator onto the Lower Wards. The sound of gunshots from around the corner pulled him out of his reverie. His military training kicking in, he stepped up to the door frame, trying to distinguish where the shots originated and where they were headed.

As quickly as the noise had started, it ended. Maybe it was just a tiff among gang members? Wouldn’t be the first time and certainly wouldn’t be the last. Peering around the corner, James could see no movement.

Until a turian in blue armor stood up from a crouched position behind the half wall. He moved toward Chora’s Den then stopped and stooped over, inspecting something. _What a relief_ , James thought, walking around the corner. “Well Garrus, you certainly know how to put a stop to all the fun.”

Garrus whirled around, blaster pointed directly at James’ chest. “One more step and you’ll drop just like your friends over here.”

James held his hands up in the air. “Whoa, jefe. It’s cool, it’s just me. I mean, I guess we’re not exactly friends, but I see you around the ship. You certainly seem to know your way around the gun battery. Lola’s always complaining under her breath about how you only have time for those ‘calibrations’ you’re doing and never for—” he stopped short, realizing he may be speaking out of turn.

The turian across from him hadn’t moved. “I don’t have friends,” he replied icily.

“Okay, okay, forget I said anything, Garrus. I get it.” This was more work than James cared to put in, but he still hadn’t lowered his weapon.

Garrus’ mandibles fluttered briefly. “Who is this Garrus you speak of? Perhaps you should go bother him instead of me.”

James took a step backward. _No_. Not again. He exclaimed, “Hell, I thought I was finally getting the hang of telling you all apart! I swear, you look exactly like someone I work with. Sorry ‘bout that.” There was an awkward pause. “Are you going to shoot me anyway?”

The turian looked hard at him, then seemed to roll his eyes—a strangely human behavior. “No, I suppose not. They’d probably have my head for it, seeing as you look like an Alliance soldier,” he muttered to himself. “Though I really don’t appreciate you sneaking up on me,” he glared at James again but holstered his gun. “I’m Vadix, by the way. Not Garrus.”

“Well, thanks, I guess, for not shooting me,” James responded drily. “I really thought you were someone else, that’s all. You look so much alike.”

Vadix made some noise that seemed to be the turian equivalent of a snort. _Where did this guy pick up all these human mannerisms?_ James wondered. “Impossible. Your friend, or coworker, whatever? I guarantee he’s got facial tattoos. I don’t.” He pointed an angry talon at his blank white face.

James meandered over to get a closer look. Vadix’ concern grew as the human male got closer, normally avoiding having anyone in his personal space. The man tapped his lip, a thoughtful expression tightening his features. “Yeah, okay, I guess you’re right. Never paid much attention to the markings, I guess. Good trick though. Should help me differentiate between you guys,” he chuckled to himself.

Vadix remained impassive, unsure of how to react. This was not how a conversation about turian facial tattoos—and his own lack thereof—usually went. It was a nice change yet also very disconcerting.

“Oh, right. I’m Lieutenant James Vega. Again, apologies for jumping you.” James held out his hand to the confused turian, who slowly gripped the man’s fingers with his own talons. “You need any help with clean up here?” The human seemed almost eager to throw some punches.

The turian’s subvocals rumbled in irritation. “No,” he responded curtly. “I’m with C-Sec. I can handle this.” He paused. “But, thank you.” It wasn’t often someone treated him like any other person, without discrimination or judgment for being “barefaced”.

“Any time, compadre.” James turned around, whistling softly, leaving behind the gruff patrolman and comatose gang members to find his likely nearly-comatose teammate and friend. _What a night_ , he reeled. _Crazy enough it might even pull Cortez out of the doldrums_.


	2. Coincided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

When Cass awoke the next morning, she was alone. She stretched, reaching her fingers and toes for the far corners of her bed, relishing the empty space. But then, she normally woke up by herself. Any new friend she may have found the night before usually left before sunrise—though whether it was from embarrassment or regret, she didn’t know. She also didn’t particularly mind.

Rolling out of the sheets to lumber to the bathroom, Cass wondered again how she might improve her interpersonal skills. After all, that was the point of all these pickups. She’d been interacting with humans for as long as she could remember and had a good feel for understanding the needs of her own species; she had several asari friends as well, and she seemed to have a decent grasp on the intricacies of their race. Salarians and turians were always more difficult to get interested in spending the night. She needed more practice with them. _Let’s see what we can find today_ , she thought.

After Cass dressed comfortably for the day in a pair of leggings and a loose shirt, ate a quick breakfast of leftovers, and packed a snack to munch on later, she began to make her way to the Presidium. On the way, she strolled from her small apartment in the Wards past various venders selling their wares. By her own realistic reckoning Cass was by no means poor, but that was largely due to her scrupulous saving and credit-pinching. She’d taught herself the basics of mending so she didn’t often need to buy new clothes once she’d stopped growing, she watched all the free cooking vids she could find on her omni-tool—even picking up a few dextro-recipes on the off-chance she ever had guests to feed—and she had even managed to teach herself to do basic repairs in her apartment so as to avoid having to call a repair company. After all, when her mother died, Cass had no one to rely on but herself.

Arriving at her destination, she found her favorite bench with an almost blinding view of the lake sparkling in the artificial dawn. _May the people watching, begin_.

For several years now, Cass spent her nights working at Flux and her days watching the people of the Citadel. Sometimes she would dress down and loiter in a corner or at the bar in Chora’s Den, while other times she would pull out all the stops and observe the high-class individuals in the Tower. Some days she would be on her best behavior around the Security sector and other days she would rough it with the working-class in the Docking Bays. And then there were times, like today, that she could just be herself in the Wards or the Presidium, skirting the edges of comfortable and chic. Wherever she ended up, there was never a shortage of her favorite resource: life.

At this hour, the other sectors still teemed with activity as there was never a change in lighting. Here in the Presidium, however, only a few creatures were out and about in the early “morning”. A lone volus was pacing—waddling—up and down a short length of railing near the lake. An elcor and a human appeared deep in slow conversation near an elevator. A couple of giggling asari ogled a jogging turian. A silent keeper worked in a corner. An asari and a salarian in lab coats strode across the path above the water. A human couple stole a kiss behind a shrub.

Cass sighed, perfectly content. Following the lead of the two asari, she allowed herself a moment to admire the fit turian running across the courtyard. The few interactions she’d had with members of this species had always left her inexplicably wanting more, like how she imagined travelling would be: intoxicating and addicting. This particular turian seemed to be no exception.

The sudden eye contact with him took her by surprise.

They were close enough that she could see the turmoil in his soul lurking just beneath the surface.

He looked away and she felt the loss of an unbidden connection. _Nonsense_ , she reprimanded herself. _I’m imagining things_.

Determined to be productive, she moved to another bench where she could both see and hear the human and the elcor. Elcor were difficult to read, but humans were not: hopefully she’d be able to glean some useful insights from observing their interaction.

#

Vadix woke with a pounding ache in his skull—again. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be in such fear for his job that he’d finally give his superiors a piece of his mind verbally instead of letting them take it out on him physically. He groaned, subvocals protesting. _Another day, another dollar_ , he thought jokingly as he stretched out of the bed.

Not that he needed the money. His adoptive parents, after all, were “loaded”, as he’d heard his human coworkers phrase it behind his back. Yet it would be absolutely reprehensible not to do _something_. Right now, his own particular brand of something was a tedious job with Citadel Security, or C-Sec, patrolling the streets and filing reports. Day after day after day.

The only change in eight years had come just over a week ago when he’d been reassigned from the Presidium to the Wards. Vadix could only assume it was his father’s influence that had allowed him to stay with the Presidium squad for as long as he did. Of course, he knew it had been an attempt to keep him safe but, frankly, he was grateful to have even the potential for more action. Knowing he had trained and practiced harder and more often than anyone else, Vadix reveled in the chance to do something more strenuous than type a review.

On his way out for a morning run, Vadix popped into the kitchen to greet his parents. Dartius was strangely absent but Trebaana’s subvocals purred at the sight of her son, regardless of his adopted status. Since she and her husband had found the infant Vadix on their doorstep, he had been the pride and joy of her life.

“Where’s Father?” Vadix asked.

His mother’s mandibles fluttered. “He had an early meeting. He said to tell you good morning.”

Seeing the sadness in his mother’s eyes, he reached out and placed his talons on hers, resting on the countertop. “What’s the matter?”

Her brow crinkled then smoothed again before she replied, “Nothing. We love you, Vadix.”

This time his own subvocals purred. “I know, Mother. And I love you.” He patted her hand and said, “I’m going for a run before work. I’ll see you soon.” Trebaana nodded in response but her son had the feeling her thoughts were once again far away from where they were standing.

_Oh, Mother_ , Vadix thought as he began to jog. Lately she’d become prone to these distant exchanges, but, uncharacteristically, he hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong. For as long as he could remember, she’d been his best friend, and he was hers. He had been treated like a social outcast by all of his peers, making it impossible to make friends. Although the other species didn’t understand the intricacies of turian culture, at best they were still indifferent to him. At worst… well, Vadix had no desire to relive those memories. He wondered again if his mother’s reservations had to do with his avoidance to adopt her colony’s face markings, or even those of his father.

He shook his head as he picked up the pace, trying to escape the guilt that pursued him. Eventually he found his rhythm and his mind became clearer even than the streets in the waxing early-morning light.

Basking in the blankness of his brain, Vadix barely registered two asari gawking at him as he ran by the lake. In his experience, any attention was bad news and often led to unfortunate circumstances. He had long ago accepted his fate to be criticized and condemned, but still preferred to minimize the impact where possible.

Putting the giggling girls behind him, he turned a corner to continue his run unobserved.

His gaze locked with that of a human, her kind grey eyes calling to mind his first visit to Palaven. The unexpected reminder gave him whiplash and he tore away from the woman’s stare before the memory—or her intensity—could overwhelm him.

_Spirits_ , he panted. This morning’s run was doing nothing to calm the oceans of his mind. Lurching into a sprint, Vadix raced away from the most terrifying thing he had seen in years: compassion.

#

“Híjole!” James exclaimed. “Cortez, you must have the mightiest hangover of all time.”

His friend crept into the mess hall, clutching his ears. “Vega, would you do me a favor and _whisper_ , please? You sound like the Normandy’s engine—on steroids.” He sat down gingerly across the table from James, who was grinning like a mad man.

“Sorry,” he stage-whispered.

“Now, now, Lieutenant,” Dr. Chakwas placed a reproving hand on his shoulder. “That’s no way to treat a suffering crew member. Steve,” she continued even more softly. “Can I offer you a home remedy I concocted myself?” She smiled like a pediatrician examining a child who was trying to be brave.

Cortez sagged in his seat. “Doctor, that would be magnificent,” he breathed.

Chakwas’ smile took on a mischievous hint. “And as your doctor, might I recommend we not make this a habit?” She winked, before walking to her office.

“She’s got a point, you know,” James said at normal volume.

Steve flinched and shook his head. “Yes, thank you, o wise and knowing one.”

This earned him a chuckle from James. “Well at least your dazzling sense of humor is coming back. I was worried last night you’d been cloned or replaced by a pod person.”

Shocked, Steve almost fell off his chair, eyes wide with horror.

“James,” EDI piped up. “If I may, the subject of ‘pod people’ should perhaps be avoided, given the current circumstances with the Collectors.”

“Shit,” James swore. “Steve, man, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly, or at all, as usual. Please forgive me.” _Shit_ , he swore again at himself. How could he forget that Steve’s husband had been taken by the Collectors and literally made into a pod person? _I’m such an asshole_ , he berated himself.

His friend shook his head glumly. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I guess I’m just still mourning his loss.” He murmured darkly. “In case my behavior last night wasn’t indication enough.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We all deal with our own trauma in different ways, it’s okay.” _Though some of us “deal” with it via avoidance_ , he added to himself.

Dr. Chakwas returned to a weighted silence, quietly placing a glass in front of Steve and looking between the two men.

“Oh! You know what, here’s something you’ll enjoy,” James remembered suddenly. “Before I met you at the bar, I met two other very interesting individuals.”

Steve groaned over his drink. “God, no, Vega, I do not want to hear about your sexual escapades! How many times do I have to tell you this?”

James guffawed and the doctor grinned, glad to see their cheeky banter again, moving to speak with Mess Sergeant Gardner. The rest of the crew was due to arrive soon, and she saw Liara duck in from around the corner.

“No, no, no,” James continued, laughing. “I met Garrus’ and the Commander’s doppelgangers! I seriously thought both times that I was being pranked or something.”

At this, Steve’s interest was piqued. “Oh, now this I definitely have to hear. Tell me the whole story,” he said between sips, already beginning to feel better.

James savored the opportunity to tell a good story—with no ghosts to haunt him—and proceeded to give his friend an account of his own evening. He skimmed over the details of the massage that the would-be Shepard had given him, knowing the doctor, who may or may not have psychological expertise, was still nearby; James preferred not to get into the details of his own past. Later, he played up the part where not-Garrus almost shot him, wanting to increase the suspense of the moment. By the end, Liara, Chakwas, and even Gardner had made their way over to listen.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Cortez cried, after draining his cup.

“Certainly,” agreed Liara. “I’m amazed these individuals haven’t previously been discovered. But then again, Shepard has always avoided the publicity that came with her fame as a Spectre and her more recent resurrection, so perhaps it is not so surprising after all…” she trailed off, deep in thought.

Dr. Chakwas pondered aloud, “And this turian had no facial markings at all?” She sounded rather incredulous.

“Nope,” James confirmed. “Is it that big a deal?”

“Yes,” she nodded gravely. “The tattoos are symbols of the turian colonies, and it is extremely looked down upon in their culture not to have them. I imagine he’s been treated with nothing but scorn his entire life.” The sorrow in her voice made all of them pause.

Gardner was the first to break the silence, “And you really think this woman was the spitting image of the Commander?” He sounded doubtful.

“Considering all the sparring we’ve done, I would recognize Lola in a crowd,” James replied, bristling. “Aside from the missing scar, I don’t think any of us would be able to tell them apart just by looking at the two of ‘em.” 

“Damn,” was Steve’s response, still at a loss for words.

“Have you told anyone else about this?” Liara probed quietly.

“No ma’am,” James answered stiffly. He wasn’t sure why, but the asari scientist seemed to know everything. And it made him nervous, thinking she might figure out his own secrets.

She nodded slowly. “Perhaps it would be best to keep it that way. For the safety of the human. Shepard has plenty of enemies, and her look alike may be seen as a useful tool to those who wish to harm the Commander.”

James looked quizzically into her cerulean face. “Even the rest of the crew? Surely no one on this ship would ever want to put Lola in danger.”

This time Liara shook her head. “The thing about secrets, Lieutenant, is that the more people who know them, the more likely it is that they will become common knowledge.”

He nodded mutely before she walked away. The unsettling look in her eyes had given him chills.


	3. Planned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

“Commander, Dr. T’soni asked to see you,” Yeoman Chambers relayed the message to Shepard as she walked toward the elevator. She nodded, thanking Kelly as she punched the call button. Liara wasn’t usually one to leave a message for her, which meant she was probably about to get herself and the crew into something serious.

Ember wondered what might be on her friend’s mind, then remembered she’d recently stepped into the shoes of the infamous Shadow Broker so the possibilities were literally endless. As long as it wasn’t an immediately upcoming Reaper invasion, they could probably work it into the schedule of things that needed to be done before the universe came to an end.

Arriving at the door to Miranda’s old office, Shepard knocked quietly before entering. “You wanted to see me?”

The asari glanced up from one of the screens strewn about the room, “Yes, thank you Shepard.”

“Of course, Liara. What’s going on? Is this related to your newfound…network?” Leaning against the wall, the Commander folded her arms. Her friend seemed particularly distracted today. 

A humorless grin flashed across her face. “Yes, it seems that there is always some disaster waiting to happen. I am not sure that I’m cut out for this type of work. The information intake is overwhelming, let alone trying to coordinate responses to everything that’s happening.” The words came rushing out, stressed like a shaken beverage.

Pushing away from the wall, Shepard approached her frazzled friend. “Calm down, you’ll get the hang of it. In fact, I can think of no one better for this job. You’re an absolute whiz, Liara. Anything you set your mind to, you can do it.” She grabbed Liara’s shoulders and turned her so they were facing each other. “You’ve got this,” she reassured her again.

Finally, the hint of a genuine smile played across the asari’s face. “Thank you, again. What would I do without you?” Her grin widened as she embraced her human friend.

Stepping away, Liara turned grim once more. “My own personal inadequacies and worries aside, we do have a potential problem.”

The Commander grimaced, “In case we didn’t have enough of those.”

“I know,” Liara replied apologetically. “I am not certain this is much of a priority given everything else going on, but I knew you would want to be aware. What to do with the information is your call.”

A short chuckle escaped Ember’s lips, “You going to charge me a fee for this intel?”

Liara gave her an exasperated look but rolled her eyes. “Laugh all you want: it’s the only way we’ll get through this ordeal.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Commander Shepard murmured. “So. What exactly is this ‘potential problem’?”

The asari sighed. “Cerberus has hired an assassin. Targeting the Council.”

Ember now rolled her eyes, dropping her head back to rest against the wall. “What the hell. I leave them alone for two minutes and they’re in danger. Again.” She heaved a deep breath out, “Is it terrible that part of me just doesn’t care?”

Liara snorted, “No. What have they ever done for your benefit? The few steps which they _have_ taken toward including and promoting humanity have only been in response to something you had already done for them. And if we are talking off the record here, I would say they are certainly replaceable.” Shaking her head, she continued, “Still. I have been with you long enough, Shepard, to know that the situation would weigh on your conscience, especially if you found out about it after the fact.”

“You know me so well,” the Commander agreed, already considering possible action plans.

Liara paused in her work. “There’s something else.”

A groan escaped the human’s mouth, and the asari’s lips quirked in response. “But this may actually turn out to be good news, for once.”

Ember peered across the desk at Liara. “I’m listening.”

“You have a doppelganger.”

Her eyes bulged, “What!” She considered this for a moment, then asked, “Is she actually my antithesis? Because that doesn’t seem like good news to me.”

“According to James’ account, which I believe was at least founded on reality, she seems to be a normal person with good intentions.” Liara smiled, “Surprising, I know.”

Shepard nodded her agreement. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Laughing, the asari said, “Cortez expressed the exact same sentiment.”

“Wait, who all knows about this?”

“Lieutenant Vega is the one who encountered the woman, and he told Cortez about it at mess this morning. Dr. Chakwas and Sergeant Gardner also overheard, but no one else. I asked James not to tell anyone else, for your sake and for the sake of your look alike,” Liara explained.

“Hm,” the Commander was already lost in thought.

“Shepard. That’s not it.” Her friend looked contrite yet eager.

An eyebrow jumped up on her face. “Okay, now you’re scaring me.”

“James also happened to meet a turian who could be Garrus’ twin, aside from the missing tattoos.” The asari was practically giddy.

Ember couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, interesting tidbits, but something tells me it’s not a coincidence you’re telling me all of this in the same visit. What exactly did you have in mind?”

Whispering conspiratorially, Liara replied, “Hire them and you and Garrus could be in two places at once.”

The wheels started turning in her mind, and the Commander began to pace the length of the room. “Now that is a curious idea.” She turned back to her friend and, seeing the excitement in her eyes, asked, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“I mean, what’s the use of being the Shadow Broker if I can’t use my information gathering network to dig up some information on persons of interest?”

Snickering, Shepard said, “Okay. What are their names?”

“According to the intel I found: Cassana Arvius and Vadix Ramraka.”

“EDI,” the Commander called out. “Get me everything you can find on these two.” Liara looked askance. “I just want to compare notes is all. Sometimes you get different sides of the same person depending on whom you ask.”

“Excellent point, Shepard,” Liara conceded. “Now, allow me to introduce you to your—hopefully—future crew members.”

#

In response to a message on his omni-tool and with some trepidation, Garrus rode the elevator up to the Captain’s Cabin on the Normandy. But Shepard wasn’t the kind of woman he could say no to, regardless of what the request was. She had recently agreed to be his—and only his—girlfriend, and while he was ecstatic at having somehow secured her affection, he was still unsure of what exactly would happen next. It was terrifying yet exhilarating.

Walking through the door, he saw her in front of the fish tank: a sign she was deep in thought about something troubling.

“Shepard,” he murmured as he approached her. He stopped short of wrapping an arm around her waist. They may be alone, but they were still technically on duty.

“Garrus,” she sounded relieved and the crease between her eyebrows smoothed instantly. His subvocals responded proudly, recognizing he was the one she sought when stressed and knowing he could put her at ease despite the stress.

“What’s going on?” he asked, reaching for her shoulders.

Ember sighed as though carrying the weight of the galaxy—and he supposed that’s exactly what she was doing these days—and stepped into his embrace. “I need your help to recruit a couple of unique individuals. Well, I’ll need the help of you and James actually.”

Mandibles fluttering in confusion, Garrus stated, “This seems very sudden.”

“It is,” she replied, rubbing her forehead with one hand.

He cocked his head at her. “And why describe them as ‘unique’? I would think all of the people you’ve recruited could be described that way.”

A sheepish smile broke across her face. “Well, the thing is, one of them is the spitting image of you,” she watched his face for a reaction. “And the other is a spitting image of me.”

Garrus blinked heavily. “Excuse me?” Both of his tones were incredulous.

Shepard placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to reassure him. “I know it sounds crazy, and honestly I’m not even sure I believe it yet. But I’m inclined to meet them at least and see if they could be assets. And if they would even agree to joining the crew temporarily.”

The turian shook his head, mandibles still pulsing slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the concept of having a twin—and his girlfriend having a twin. “You know you have my complete loyalty, whatever the mission is,” he finally spoke. “This is no different,” his tone warmed as his talons ran down the length of her side. They may be on duty, but she was the CO and she had made the first move by hugging him.

She gave him a shy smile full of promise, the one that belonged to him alone. “Let the record show that you started this: I made no overt sexual advances in order to convince you,” the words purred out of her mouth as she stood on her toes, stretching her arms to rub his fringe between her fingers.

Subvocals rumbling, he countered, “I’d prefer there be no public record of you and me when we’re alone. The crew—the entire galaxy—might wonder about your ability to lead, to command.” He pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes, cherishing this moment of intimacy.

Ember let him have his moment, then shoved him backward on his ass. He looked up at her, confused, noting that for once she had the height advantage over him.

“Oh, Vakarian,” she growled sensually. Hypnotically swaying her hips, she stepped toward him. “Do you really think I’m losing my touch? We both know I am still very much in command.” She closed the momentary gap between them until she stood a mere handspan in front of him, her waist almost level with his eyes.

From the floor Garrus gazed straight up into the face of this beautiful human he loved, anxiety dissipating as she stroked his head crest, eliciting an ache behind his lower plates that matched his rising subvocals. _Spirits_.


	4. Informed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

James scanned the nearly empty room, looking for the waitress he’d met at Flux the night before. “Commander, are you sure she’s working right now?”

“According to EDI, she was scheduled to start work today at 1500 hours so she should be here. Though EDI also mentioned that it was abnormal for her to start this early so perhaps it was an error in the scheduling,” Shepard responded.

Garrus looked like he was on edge. James suggested, “I mean, the easiest way would be to just order something. Vakarian looks like he could use a drink.” This earned him a glare from both of his companions. “Okay, okay, nevermind.”

The trio continued to search the club from the shadows near the entrance. A couple minutes passed and then James could hear the turian’s subvocals. “Found her,” he whispered, disbelief coloring his voice. Garrus pointed a talon toward a group of tables near the back. James could see no waitresses moving in the vicinity and made to look back at the sniper quizzically. Until he saw a seated redhead toss her hair. Beneath the throbbing colored lights, it was like fire.

“Alright Lieutenant,” Shepard seemed strangely at ease with the whole situation. _The woman is so calm under pressure; it’s unnerving_ , James thought. The Commander continued, “Your job is to get her alone somewhere that we can all talk privately. Plan to meet at 1700 hours. Send me the rendezvous location. Garrus and I are going to track down the turian you met.”

He was about to protest when he saw the look in Vakarian’s eyes. If looks could kill, he’d be on the edge of spontaneous combustion. “Very well,” he assented and slumped toward the back of the room where he found an empty table near the lively waitress.

From his perch a couple seats over, he could see her sitting with another patron, a periwinkle salarian who appeared to be in a trance. The two were grasping hands on the tabletop and the human spoke slowly to her companion. Her concentration was fascinating to James, especially given that he still found the salarians a bit on the repulsive side: they were too much like fast-talking slow-walking frogs.

When he picked his seat he had worried that another waitress would be assigned to him, but no one came to take his order so he figured he’d be her problem. _Lucky her_ , he quipped internally. _Lucky me_. James noticed the bartender eyeing him and then searching for Cass. Not wanting her to get in trouble, he quickly buried his nose in the menu, trying to look like he was still deciding.

After reading the entire drinks list four times, slender fingers pulled the top of the menu away from his face. He looked up into the smoky eyes of the fiery woman he needed. “Back so soon?” she teased.

James pasted on his most sultry expression. “What can I say, baby? I just couldn’t stay away.”

Her pout was cute. “But you left so suddenly last night, I thought surely you’d had enough.” Leaning forward, Cass brought her face level with his, a tempting smile spreading like honey across her lips, “Are you really sure you can handle more—handle me?”

_Damn_ , he thought, distracted by the sudden proximity of her equally tempting cleavage. Clearing his throat, James managed, “Oh I think we could come to an agreeable arrangement.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Cass hummed, placing her palms on top of his hands, encouraging his grip to relax off the menu until he was putty in her hands. James struggled not to relax his mind as he felt her fingers massaging from the center of his palms to the tips of his own fingers. The sensation was strangely erotic; he felt it in his cock.

A sudden image of Vakarian’s glower flashed behind his eyelids and James grabbed her wrists, halting her motions. “Fuck,” he groaned. Seeing her perplexed expression, he explained, “As much as I would love to continue this—and believe me, I would like nothing more right now—I’m actually here on assignment.”

“What kind of assignment?” she queried, arms still trapped in his grasp.

Wondering how best to clarify the situation, James began, “Do you remember when I told you who my boss is?” She nodded vigorously, brightening instantly. “Well, she wants to speak with you. Privately.”

Cass’ mouth dropped open before she let out a short squeal. “When? Where?” She could barely contain her excitement.

“In a little over an hour,” James said. “Do you know of somewhere a little more secluded where we could meet?”

Her head tilted to the side as she pondered. “There are a couple private rooms up on the mezzanine, or we’ve got a storeroom in the back that doubles as a break room. Otherwise we could find somewhere outside of the club.”

James nodded as she spoke. “What would be easiest for you? Seeing as you’re working, we don’t want to make things more difficult for you.”

She smiled brilliantly again. “If you would reserve one of the private rooms, that would be super convenient. Then I won’t be on a time crunch.”

Eyes wide, James asked, “Do you regularly ‘entertain’ patrons in private rooms?”

At this Cass blushed a pretty shade of pink. “It’s complicated.” She seemed almost chagrined. But not quite.

A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. _What a mysterious woman_. “Hermosa, no judgments here. If anything, it makes me wish Commander Shepard wasn’t invited,” he winked.

That languid honey smile of hers was back full force. “Well, depending on how things go, perhaps you and I can speak privately afterward,” she whispered. He felt her fingertips graze the back of his wrists.

James leaned forward until they were nose to nose. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

#

“Shepard, are you sure about this?” Garrus asked for the sixth time as they wandered the streets of the Wards, looking for his inexplicable lookalike.

She rounded on him, exasperated. “I’ve already told you: no, I’m not sure. But I still want to see this through to the end, whatever that turns out to be.” She looked more closely at him. “Why is this so difficult for you?” she worried.

“This isn’t hard for me,” he scoffed. He saw that she saw right through him. _I can’t keep secrets from her; why did I ever think dating my CO would be a good idea?_ But then he thought about the time they’d spent earlier that day in her cabin, and he remembered why with trembling mandibles.

Guessing what he was thinking, his girlfriend deadpanned, “No, but you’re hard for me.”

_Spirits_. And just like that the ache in his lower plates was back. She was leering at him possessively, knowing exactly what she was doing to him.

Garrus leered right back, methodically moving into a predatory stance. “You want to play dirty, Shepard? Let’s play dirty,” and he lunged at her.

Shrieking, the Commander took two steps away before he had her in his arms. He nuzzled her neck aggressively, her hair tangled in his fringe, pulling at it in an all too pleasing way. His subvocals chattered gladly at the distraction.

His arms relaxed just enough and she thrust her hips into his groin to break free from his grip. Having perfectly picked her moment to strike, she was dashing down the hall away from him, accompanied by a very un-Shepard-like giggle.

Chest puffing at being the cause for such a lovely sound, Garrus took off after his girlfriend, wondering what else he could do to get her to laugh like that again. Thanks to his superior height, he quickly caught up with Shepard and chased her into a corner. He pinned her hands above her head with one talon, held her chin with the other, and pressed one of his knees between her legs.

“Evening, everyone,” an unfamiliar voice startled both of them.

The Commander was staring over his shoulder, and Garrus glanced behind him to see who was interrupting his moment of victory. Catching sight of a bare-faced turian in a C-Sec uniform, he scowled before dropping Shepard’s arms. “And who are you, exactly?” Garrus grumped.

“I could ask you the same thing. Violence from a turian—especially against a human—is unacceptable in the Citadel,” the officer sneered.

Garrus and Shepard exchanged a glance. She was struggling to stifle a smile. “What, and you thought he was assaulting me?” she snorted.

At this, the other turian seemed taken aback. “Is that not what was happening?” he asked slowly.

Ember rolled her eyes. “No. He’s my boyfriend.” Garrus felt his subvocals announcing his pleasure and she rewarded him with a private grin.

Awkwardly standing up straighter, the officer was clearly perplexed. “Oh. Well, that is—my apologies.” He made to leave.

“Wait,” Shepard commanded. “What’s your name, officer?”

He cleared his throat loudly. “My name is Vadix Ramraka, ma’am.”

“I thought so,” she tutted, walking toward him with arms folded. Garrus didn’t envy him. The woman had gone into full-on Commander mode and Garrus knew from experience: it was intimidating as hell.

“Ma’am?” the turian was even more confused as this strangely authoritative human approached him.

She circled him once then stopped in front of his frozen form, hands on hips. “Officer Ramraka, my name is Commander Ember Shepard, Spectre for the Citadel Council, and I am in need of your assistance.”

Vadix took a step back. “What? Why me?”

Without turning, she waved Garrus forward. He was immediately at her side, daring the other turian to question her again. He still didn’t trust this bare-faced boy.

“It has come to my attention that aside from the lack of tattoos, you look remarkable similar to my companion, Garrus Vakarian. To that end, I would like to hire you on a temporary basis for an upcoming mission.” He looked out of the corner of his eye at his girlfriend at this. _She didn’t mention a specific mission_.

Vadix was already shaking his head before she had finished speaking. Garrus felt his metaphorical hackles rising at the insubordination. _This clueless twat has no real concept of who this woman is_. “No, I can’t,” the other turian protested.

Garrus wanted to bare his teeth, but Shepard laid a calming hand on his arm. “Vadix,” she soothed. “I appreciate your dedication to your C-Sec duties; your loyalty does you credit. You also need to know that lives are in danger, and you could help me protect them in a way that no one else can.” Seeing his defenses were starting to come down, she pressed on. “I know that, as a human, I can’t fully grasp your culture but I want you to know that I respect your decision and the reasons behind it: I’m not going to ask you to get tattoos like Garrus has. I know a scientist who will be able to develop a temporary dye compatible with dextro-proteins. For the purposes of this mission, you’ll look exactly the same, but there will be no permanent change to your appearance. I promise.”

The turian across from them looked down at the floor, seemingly deep in thought. Garrus could feel Shepard holding her breath next to him. When he looked up, the resolve on his face was clear. Meeting the human’s gaze, he replied, “Very well. I’m in.”

Shepard released the air she’d been holding and smiled at their new teammate. Garrus didn’t like that. He didn’t want her to smile at any turian but him. “Perfect,” she exclaimed, either oblivious to her boyfriend’s reaction or ignoring it.

“On one condition.”

He couldn’t help it; Garrus really did bare his teeth at him now. Shepard scolded him with her eyes then turned back to the white turian. “Which is?”

Suddenly noticing how brash he sounded, he tried to take it back but the Commander insisted on hearing what he had to say. Gulping, he explained, “If I perform to the best of my ability and not only meet, but exceed, your expectations, will you put in a good word in the right place so that I can have a fair chance at getting into the turian military?” _So, he does know who she is after all_ , Garrus noted. Vadix continued, “I’m not asking for special treatment, only that you would vouch for my trustworthiness despite my being ‘barefaced’.” He spat the last word.

The Commander nodded knowingly. “That sounds like a highly reasonable request. Done. Meet us outside Docking Bay D24 tomorrow at 0900,” she finished, switching from understanding negotiator to commanding officer in an instant. She grabbed Garrus by the talon and dragged him back in the direction of Flux. They were almost late for their appointment with her own doppelganger.

#

“Can I just say: it is an absolute honor to meet you, Commander Shepard. I admire you more than almost anyone I know of.”

Shepard felt like she was looking in the mirror but hearing her anti-self. “Thank you,” she muttered. _This is too much_ , she stewed.

Sitting across the table was a younger woman who had the same grey eyes and flaming hair that Ember had seen every day of her life. The only difference in their appearance was a scar on her cheekbone, an artifact of her resurrection from the dead. But the moment either of them opened their mouths, the illusion was broken.

It was a very surreal experience for both of them.

For the two men standing by the door, it was even stranger: the turian was in love with one of the women and the human wanted to fuck the other. It was disorienting to see someone so strikingly similar to the object of their desires.

Cassana realized she was making the Commander uncomfortable and immediately toned down her enthusiasm. “How can I help you?” she asked demurely.

Shepard blinked once at the woman’s sudden change of expression, then regained her composure. “First off, could you tell me a little bit about yourself, Cassana?”

She grimaced momentarily, looking embarrassed. “It’s actually pronounced Cass-aw-nuh, with a hard A first. I know it sounds silly, but my mother liked the idea that the one vowel could make three different sounds.”

Ember dipped her head gracefully, “Apologies. I suppose that’s what I get from only reading your name and not hearing it.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. Everyone pronounces it wrong the first time,” she offered a small smile. “To answer your question, there’s not a lot to know: I work at Flux as a waitress every night and I don’t have any family left alive.”

Maintaining eye contact with her almost-twin, Shepard asked, “What sort of skills do you have?” The poor woman was obviously not combat-ready but perhaps she could be trained.

Her smile widened instantly. “I’m a people person, and I’ve studied all the species I can find on the Citadel: their mannerisms, the way they speak, their nonverbal communication. I don’t mean to boast but after all these years I’ve gotten very good at reading a person on the outside and having an understanding of what’s going on inside.”

Shepard was impressed. She sounded a bit like Yeoman Chambers—on steroids. If she was half as good as she claimed to be, she would be a very valuable member of the team. Especially for this mission.

“Well I must say I am eager to see you in action. What you’ve described is something I wish all of my team could do better, myself included.” In response to her words, Cassana beamed.

The Commander paused, considering. “The reason I asked James to set up this meeting is because I would like to hire you to assist in an upcoming mission. Certain lives are in danger and I think you could help me protect them. It will be dangerous and you’ll need substantial training, but from what I can tell, I think you’re up to the task. What do you say, Ms. Arvius?”

“Please, just call me Cass,” she blushed. “And I accept. Anything I can do to help others, always.”

Ember wondered at her apparent altruism. _Perhaps we aren’t so very different after all_. “I can’t promise any sort of steady income, and the timeline is still a little hazy, but is there some sort of compensation you’re interested in?”

Cass snuck a look at the men by the door who had not moved since the conversation began. “There is something,” she started shyly. “But it’s something I’ll only discuss with you directly, Commander Shepard.”

Looking over at the baffled expressions of Vega and Vakarian, Shepard motioned them out the door. Garrus looked on the verge of objection but she held up a hand. “We women are entitled to our secrets.”


	5. Introduced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): https://lifehacker.com/basic-self-defense-moves-anyone-can-do-and-everyone-sh-5825528

For the first time in over 10 years, Cass slept fitfully, paranoid she’d sleep through the alarm and miss the opportunity of a lifetime. Awaking several times during the night from anxiety, she couldn’t stop wondering what was going to happen the next day. She had so many questions: what exactly was involved in this upcoming mission? Would she be able to develop combat skills quickly enough? Would she actually have to use those skills? Would she even be able to?

Rolling over yet again, she stared at the clock across the room. It was just after six a.m. Nearly another hour before she needed to be awake.

Cass flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling of her apartment. Her thoughts wandered to the jogging turian she’d seen yesterday morning. She had learned to notice the signs of emotional scars so that she could help when someone needed her without knowing it themselves, and she often felt drawn to those with serious injuries which maimed their very existence. While the pain in his eyes haunted her in a way similar to previous people she’d met, the bruised shadow of his soul called to her in a way she had never before experienced.

Closing her eyes, Cass imagined him before her again. Although most turians seemed to have the same dark eye color, his were the only ones she wanted to slip into and drink up, the kind of inky pools that invited her in without any disguising layers or restraining inhibitions.

She could only too easily imagine herself in the pitch depths, the waters caressing her skin from head to toe. Her own hands followed the motions in her mind, where the touch of the enticing black deep had become the touch of the mysterious white turian. Cass could almost feel the delicious scratch of his talons along her jaw, behind her neck, and over her shoulders. Her sleepy breasts began to perk up as the abrasive movements drew closer, practically begging for attention. Skimming her nails around the outermost edges was the beginning of the end as Cass felt her back arch up, nearly whimpering for the relief she most wanted at that moment. With agonizing slowness, she imagined the tips of his talons drawing concentric circles on her chest, nearing her now pebbled areolae, until finally he pinched both nipples and pulled—hard.

She cried out just as the alarm sounded.

Groaning, Cass lay still as she tried to calm her aroused heartbeat. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been the source of her own sexual pleasure. But then, she also couldn’t remember the last time she’d longed for a particular person to be the source of her sexual pleasure.

Unfortunately, he probably didn’t even know she existed.

So, while the liquid pools of her turian’s eyes were distinctly out of reach at the moment, at least the liquid of her shower was not.

And maybe he’d come back for a visit under that stream to continue his ministrations of the morning.

#

Vadix fidgeted as he waited at the docking bay. He was still rather early, but he couldn’t stand to be late. And he hadn’t known what to tell his parents when he left, so he’d ducked out while they were both out of the main living area. He’d have to explain himself tonight when, after he didn’t show up for work, he no longer had a job.

His worry began to manifest itself when he started pacing.

More than almost anything, he didn’t want to disappoint his parents. They meant everything to him. But Commander Shepard drove a hard bargain, and Vadix had felt something deep within himself, urging him to accept the assignment. The potential chance to be considered for the military aside, he had known that this was the right thing to do.

Glancing up again from his pacing, he could just make out a small flame bouncing toward him. The insanity of the thought stopped him in his tracks, the red growing as it got closer. He continued to peer at it until he could discern a face beneath the fire, and he realized it was the Commander. Standing up straight, he saluted her.

“Morning ma’am”, he stated.

The woman looked perplexed. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve officially met”, she said with confusion. Vadix felt his heart sink.

“As you say, Commander.” The words came out without emotion as he began to walk away. _I should’ve known better than to hope._

“Wait!” She placed a hand on his arm and he felt her warmth in his chest. The sensation was overwhelming. He jerked away, taking two steps back, looking from her face to the spot where she’d touched him and back.

A shy smile crawled across her lips as she in turn looked from his face to the ground and back again. “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly. Vadix felt his mandibles shudder with desire—for her voice of all things! _Who was this human anyway?_

She cleared her throat and asked, “You probably thought I was Commander Shepard, didn’t you?” His surprise continued to grow. He nodded once, mutely. “I must admit, I didn’t realize she was hiring anyone other than me, but I can see you look remarkably like that turian who was with her.” She stepped closer and his heart rate picked up: her proximity felt…intoxicating. “You could almost be twins, if not for…” The woman paused and Vadix thought he was going to be sick. He didn’t think he could bear it if this beautiful creature drew attention to his shame.

“Except for your eyes.”

He could only manage to blink dumbly at her. _What the hell is she talking about?_

As she stared into his face the most delicious color crept into her cheeks, until she looked down again and took a step back. A step away from him. Vadix didn’t like that distance so he closed it in one long stride, gripping her shoulders with his talons.

He watched her chin tip up until she stopped, staring straight ahead at the neck of his armor, level with her eyes. Aside from her deep breaths in and out, she was motionless. Vadix could hear his subvocals grumbling as he willed her to look up at him again.

“Good morning. I’m glad to see you two have met.” Another female voice, though less appealing, brought Vadix back to the present. He released the silent woman’s shoulders and stepped back, determined not to touch her again, not to look at her again.

Unless she let him. Unless she asked him to.

Commander Shepard stood with her hands on her hips, a quizzical look on her face. Vadix knew she was drawing some sort of conclusion about the pair of them, but he didn’t know what it was. He was afraid to know.

“Morning ma’am”, he repeated the salute and salutation he’d given her look alike—whose name he still didn’t know. He felt his brow tighten as he thought, _But I know her from somewhere_.

“At ease, Ramraka.” She nodded once at him then turned to look at the human standing next to him. The one he refused to watch. Instead he continued to stare straight ahead, observing the turian and the human standing behind the commander. He recognized the turian—she’d called him her boyfriend—from yesterday but the human was new to Vadix. The man had a comfortable expression on his face which was strangely at odds with the tightness in his fists at his side. Vadix recognized himself in that stance: it was the one he took anytime his C-Sec superiors spoke to him. It was fake acceptance personified.

Before he could dwell on the reason for the human man’s posture, the melodic voice of the woman next to him took over his attention. “I’m sorry Commander, I’ve never had to do that before.” _What was she talking about?_ Vadix peeked over at her and she looked oddly sheepish. She didn’t seem the type to ever feel embarrassed.

Commander Shepard smiled and said in a less-authoritative voice than the one she’d used with Vadix, “That’s quite alright. As a civilian, I don’t expect you to act like a soldier and treat me like your commanding officer. Just think of me as your boss.” The redhead at his side bobbed her agreement, her sunny grin practically glowing. _Spirits, I want her to look at me like that._

“Now, the two of you will be helping train each other for the remainder of the week. You have five days to work here on the Citadel before we depart. During this week you’ll be almost entirely on your own, but I still expect nothing less than 100% dedication to developing the skills you do not currently possess. After we leave, you’ll continue your training on the Normandy, likely with some help from myself and the rest of the crew, when possible.

“Vadix, you’ll be teaching Cassana the basics of gunfighting along with hand-to-hand combat. She needs to be able to shoot a weapon with fair accuracy but focus on defending herself in close quarters. Cass, you’ll be teaching Vadix how to observe and read other people, specifically humans. At this time, I won’t be providing you with any details regarding the mission so that you can focus on your training, but trust that I will tell you everything you need to know when the time comes. Are we clear?”

He and Cassana both nodded their agreement.

“Good. I’ve reserved a training room at C-Sec Headquarters where you’ll be able to practice in relative peace and quiet.” Vadix felt his eyes widen at the idea of returning to the site of his old job. “The room is next to a back entrance few know about so the likelihood of anyone observing you there is very small,” the Commander added, looking right at him. He felt the woman next to him peer up at him. _Great, she probably thinks I have something to hide_.

“Any questions?” Shepard finished.

_None you can answer_ , Vadix thought glumly as he shook his head.

The Commander’s grin made him feel like she knew something he should’ve known about the situation. “Very well. Follow me to your new home.”

#

As they walked toward C-Sec HQ, Cass was smiling like a fool. She couldn’t believe her luck: the turian she’d so admired was going to be her new coworker! And while she thought there was probably some rule about anti-fraternization, Commander Shepard had basically said to treat this like her job—and her old boss had practically encouraged all socialization.

Recognizing the human man with the Commander, Cass had smiled at James in greeting. His face had lit up but then fell just as quickly. She got the feeling he was trying to hide something, but she couldn’t tell what it was. And frankly she was more interested in finding out what her turian was hiding.

She snuck a look at him: Vadix. He was even more attractive than she remembered. Cass had recognized him immediately but had been taken aback when he seemed to think they knew each other. And when she had touched him—if he hadn’t stepped away, she probably would have launched herself at him. Despite the satisfaction she had found in the shower that morning, lust had bloomed in her core.

Tucking her hands under her arms so she’d refrain from reaching out to him again, she determined to focus on the job she’d been hired to do instead of the job she’d like to do to him.

But that resolve didn’t need to apply while they were en route to their new work.

By the time they reached the training room, Cass could feel the desire between her legs, the heaviness in her breasts. She just hoped no one else could tell how turned on she was. _What a nightmare that would be to explain_.

“Alright,” Commander Shepard said, facing the two of them. The room is locked 24/7 so you’ll need the code to get in: 0754. Don’t forget it and don’t write it down anywhere; just remember it. In this room you should be able to find everything you need for combat training, but feel free to leave as needed for people training. It’s up to you when you begin and when you end each day, just know that I can make no guarantees for how long we’ll have to prepare for this mission.”

She looked at Cass and Vadix intently. “More important even than the training you’ll be doing is the relationship you’ll develop. If you cannot rely on each other, if you cannot trust each other, you’ll be of no help to me.” She paused to let her words sink in. _Damn_ , Cass thought. _She really means business_.

“Lastly,” she continued. “You’ll be entirely on your own this week. Like I said earlier, you have five days here on the Citadel. On the last day, I’ll meet you here at 1500 hours to review your progress and to go over our next steps. In this room, no one will disturb you. It’s entirely soundproof, and the walls are one-way glass: you can see out, but no one can see in.” Shepard’s grin reminded Cass of herself, of the moment she knew she had secured a healing conversation with someone in pain or an exploratory night in with someone in need. “Good luck.”

And with that, the Commander and her silent crew members left Cass and her dreamy turian alone.

She turned to look at him, this time determined to not get distracted. To not picture him naked. Shaking her head to rid herself of all lewd thought, she asked, “What would you like to do first?” _Damn_. Her voice sounded husky to her own ears.

His mandibles shifted as he turned to look her in the eye. “I suppose we could start with the basics of hand-to-hand combat, since that’s what the Commander wants us to focus on for you.”

Rolling her shoulders Cass replied, “Sure, let’s do it.” Maybe throwing some punches would help her get her mind out of the gutter and focus on the task at hand.

Vadix looked at her amateur stance. “Do you have any experience with fighting off physical contact?” He did not sound pleased.

Cass could only laugh, “No, I’m usually inviting the physical contact.” She saw his mandibles flutter and felt rather than heard the critical response of his subvocals.

Jerking his head in a quick nod, the turian spoke carefully. “Right. Well. I’d prefer if we didn’t invite anyone to attack us.” Cass smiled, detecting the tiniest hint of humor in his voice. _Perhaps he’s not so unfeeling all the time_. He continued, pacing in a circle around her, “The first thing you should know is that the best offense is a good defense. You can discourage anyone from attacking you in the first place by being aware of your surroundings and the people nearby, by acting confident and in charge instead of vulnerable or like you’re easy pickings. Given your small size, it’ll be better to avoid a fight at all if you can help it.”

“I’m the same size as Commander Shepard, and she doesn’t seem to have any issues,” Cass retorted.

Vadix chuckled, “That’s because she’s been training to be a killer soldier for nearly as long as you or I have been alive. You, on the other hand, are getting a late start and are therefore at a disadvantage. But then the whole point of this exercise is to make people think you’re her…” he trailed off, eyes roving up and down her body as he contemplated something. His scrutiny made her uncomfortable—she’d rather be naked when anyone looked at her like that. At least then she knew what conclusions they’d reach.

The turian seemed to decide something and declared, “Alright. I’ll come at you from a few different directions and I want you to try to fight me off. That way I can see what level you’re at and we’ll go from there.”

Cass nodded her grim agreement. His hulking mass towered over her from several feet away. The sheer amount of muscle on his body was astounding. She knew she was inherently soft as a human, even more so because she had never been excessively fit, and the thought of fighting him was terrifying. Even still, she squared her shoulders and rolled onto the balls of her feet, never one to shy from a challenge.

He lunged for her.

Jumping to the side, she dodged out of the way and managed to land a kick against his thigh. Vadix grunted his approval then leapt toward her again. Cass ducked out of his arms and shoved the heel of her hand into his chest, increasing the distance between them again. He paused, seeming to assess her, then dove for her feet. She hopped off the ground and stepped onto his back once before landing on the ground behind Vadix.

Before Cass could turn around, she felt his arms slide around her, one hand lightly gripping her throat while the other encircled her waist, pulling her flush with his body. She clawed at his talons around her neck, feeling the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Scrambling to gather her thoughts, she considered potential weak points. The vise at her throat was a no-go, and the trunk surrounding her torso was just as strong. Glancing down, she noticed for the first time that his feet were bare. Is that normal for turians? Shrugging internally, she stomped on his toes as hard as she could while thrusting her hips back into him.

Vadix gasped in surprise as the human slipped from his grip. She whirled around to face him, fists at the ready. “Not bad for having zero experience,” he said, subvocals rumbling in appreciation as he looked at Cassana.

“What, that’s it?”

“I just needed to assess your current skills, or simply your instincts I suppose,” he responded. “Now I know where to start teaching you. Lesson number one is the most vulnerable points of the body: eyes, nose, neck, and knees. You seemed to know that inherently so that’s good; that’ll be easier to build upon than breaking down bad habits. You follow me?”

Cass nodded. “Eyes, nose, neck, knees,” she repeated, pointing at each body part in turn.

“Good. Lesson number two is the most effective weapons on your body: elbows, knees, and head. Using any of those will inflict the most damage against your attacker. If there are any objects nearby, you can consider using those as well. Whatever you use, remember to leverage your weight. You don’t have much muscle so you can’t rely on your strength; even if you did, you still shouldn’t rely solely on your strength. If you can throw your weight into your movements, you’ll be far more successful. Got it?”

Again, she nodded. “Elbows, knees, head—leverage my weight.”

“Perfect. Now let’s practice.” Vadix handed her some gloves and pads for her knees and elbows. “I’m pretty hard; don’t want you to get badly bruised on day one,” he murmured.

Cass nearly choked on her breath, “You’re hard?” His brow plates pulled together in confusion, clearly not understanding her meaning. “Sorry, sorry, never mind,” she managed. _He must not be familiar with human slang_. All the same, the idea of him being hard for her… It just made her wet for him.

“Alright, ready. Let’s go again.” She needed to move on before her concentration slipped away again.

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple minutes of sparring before Vadix stopped them again. “You doing okay?”

Already beginning to feel her muscles groaning, Cass muttered, “Fine. Again.”

They continued to exchange blows, stopping every few minutes at the turian’s insistence. Each “break” began to grate on the human’s nerves. Finally, she had had enough.

“Vadix!” she yelled in frustration, interrupting him mid-sentence. The surprised expression on his face would have been hilarious if Cass wasn’t so upset. “Stop babying me! I know you’re going easy on me because you think I can’t handle anything more intense, but I need you to show me what I would actually be facing in the real world. I need to know what we’re really up against. Because I know it won’t be like this.” She took a deep breath and noticed his astonishment had morphed into something tougher, almost predatory. An involuntary step backward took her away from him.

His steely gaze flicked down to her now unmoving feet before beginning their trek up her body, blazing a burning path toward her face. When their eyes met, she could scarcely draw air into her lungs. She was pinned in place by his aggressive regard—for her or against her, she wasn’t certain.

“You want me to treat you like a real enemy?” he whispered.

Cass parted her lips to respond but the words slowed on her tongue as she saw the emotion taking over his eyes like a sandstorm, spreading his limbs into a voracious stance, until she hissed, “Yes.”

He pounced.

She yelped once before her back met the floor. In moments she was on her stomach, cheek pressed into the ground, shoulders yanked back as he grasped her elbows together with one hand. The other met her throat again, but this time she could feel the sharp tips of his talons resting against the vulnerable flesh covering her carotid artery. Vadix knelt on the backs of her thighs, his toes forcing her own feet to remain on the floor.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Cass,” he sighed, the exasperation tinging his voice at odds with the pleased flanging of his subvocals.

Realizing she was in fact holding her breath, she released the stale air from her lungs and dragged in a small gulp. Her lungs fought against the turian’s weight in order to expand. “Can’t move,” she coughed.

“Shit,” he swore, moving off his prey, inadvertently dragging his talons through her fiery hair. Vadix was struck by a sudden fascination of the red strands: how could it be so soft and yet so vibrant?

Gasping for air, Cass rolled onto her back. And found herself looking straight up at the handsome turian standing over her. The new breath caught in her throat. _He’s magnificent_.

The turian, for his part, couldn’t stop staring at the small human he now straddled. With her fleshy curves she appealed to him in a way no other creature ever had before. _She’s stunning_.

A comfortable moment of silence passed until both came to their senses, remembering what it was they were supposed to be doing. Vadix cleared his throat and extended a hand to help his companion off the floor. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. _Spirits, what came over me?_

“It’s alright,” Cass responded breathlessly, though she had already recovered from the brief compression of her lungs.

They looked at each other awkwardly, neither sure of what exactly had just happened.

“Perhaps we should take a break?” Cassana suggested, breaking the tension as she remembered how upset she’d been before he got all…animalistic and sexy. “We could go do some people watching, to start your training.” _I can’t let him get under my skin so easily_. She set her face into what she hoped was a controlled expression, determined not to think about him as a potential lover.

All Vadix could do was nod in agreement. He didn’t trust either of his vocals just yet. The woman was just too damn bewitching.


	6. Clashed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): https://lifehacker.com/basic-self-defense-moves-anyone-can-do-and-everyone-sh-5825528

Vadix followed Cassana in an uncomfortable silence. These strange new feelings of attraction angered him, and her sudden outburst of anger only served to attract him more. He tried to think of her flaws, anything to subdue this growing magnetism: she wore her emotions like an alcoholic advertisement and displayed a blatant disregard for self-discipline; her lack of useful skills would make her an eventual burden on society, a definite issue in turian culture; she was so soft and fleshy, inherently vulnerable even, he should have been repulsed by the human woman. Spirits, he was probably allergic to her very biology—a sure sign that he should stay the hell away from her.

For all intents and purposes, she was his complete opposite.

And now he was supposed to learn from her? About human communications no less.

_The indignity_ , he gradually convinced himself.

He saw his companion glance back at his sudden growl. Vadix narrowed his eyes at her, intent on keeping his distance. _I’m a true blue-blooded turian, dammit, and I’m not going to fall for a human_.

“Well, this is as good a spot as any,” Cass broke the silence when she stopped near a bench overlooking the lake.

Looking around, Vadix asked, “For what?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “For people watching. Commander Shepard said she wants me to teach you to read people. You know, understand what they’re thinking or going to do based on their expressions and their actions. Sure, there are plenty of books or written resources on the topic, but the best way to learn is through live observation.” She gestured toward the people surrounding them.

“You’re joking,” Vadix was not pleased. He wasn’t about to sit still for hours on end and stare at the humans of the Citadel.

Cass glared at him, a reproving hand on her hip. “I’m sorry, are you the expert here, or am I?”

He felt his brow plates draw together, subvocals rumbling. “I can’t imagine you’re actually an expert.”

Cass stalked toward him and stopped mere inches away from him, looking straight up into his face. Stabbing her finger into his chest, she said, “You,” then stabbing in the air at the bench, “Sit.”

Vadix continued to scowl at her a moment longer, considering his options. He could just leave; the Commander had said there was no minimum time expectation. He’d probably have better luck just doing research on his omni-tool without the “help” of this infuriating little woman.

But he wouldn’t even know where to start looking.

Resolving to stay for a short while to figure out just enough so he could get information on his own, he huffed once at her and sat heavily on the bench.

Cassana looked surprised, likely because he hadn’t put up a fight, but quickly moved to the spot next to him. Her eyes roved over the crowds, searching for something.

A few moments later, a grin lit up her face as her gaze settled on a pair of humans seated at another bench. She pointed them out to Vadix, murmuring, “There. We’ll watch them.”

Grunting his response, the turian stared at the couple, unblinking. The sooner he could figure out the basics, the sooner he could leave.

A smack to his stomach jarred him out of his reverie. Perplexed, Vadix looked askance at the redhead next to him. “You can’t be that obvious about it!” she hissed.

His mandibles flared in frustration before he plastered them to his jaw. “I was trying to concentrate,” he stated, managing to maintain a semblance of calm. _How am I supposed to ‘people watch’ if I’m not allowed to watch them?_

She rolled her eyes at him, taking a deep breath. “If you stare like that, people will think you’re either a pervert or a murderer, and I don’t want to be considered an accomplice in either scenario. You can’t be so severe, Vadix!” Scowling, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

When she opened her eyes to frown at him again, Vadix fought to keep up his irritation. He refused to succumb to the imploring look in her eyes. _Those eyes_. There was something about them, something familiar he couldn’t quite place that made him feel defenseless yet powerful.

“Let’s try this,” her voice sounded strangled, like she was struggling to hold back some emotion. “When you look at them, I’m almost in your line of sight, right?” After verifying this fact, he nodded. She continued, “Angle your head and your body like you and I are having a discussion, but observe them with your eyes. Don’t stare like you’re trying to light something on fire with the sheer force of your gaze; just watch them with educational interest. It’ll help your face relax so you don’t look so scary.”

“You think I look ‘scary’?” his voice icy.

“Well yeah, when your brow is all scrunched down toward your eyes, which are already intense enough on their own? It makes you look like a hunter,” her voice got quiet at the end of her sentence, and Vadix noticed a hint of pink that appeared in her face before she turned away.

Grimacing at her declaration regarding his appearance, Vadix looked back at the human couple, wondering what “educational interest” should look like. The male human reminded him of the domestic violence victims he’d seen as a C-Sec officer: seemingly trying to shrink themselves as much as possible, to hide from the incoming pain they expected. And he couldn’t blame him: the female sitting next to the man seemed to be pulling out her hair. The observing turian figured it was only a matter of time before she started pulling out her companion’s hair too.

He began to worry about what he’d do if the woman starting throwing punches, since he wasn’t on duty. Hell, he’d probably been technically stripped of his badge by this point. Muttering to Cassana without taking his eyes off the brewing duo, he asked, “Do you think we should intervene? It looks like they’re about to get violent.”

A snort to his side surprised Vadix enough to draw his visual attention. “No,” Cass responded, laughing at him. “It’s just a lover’s spat. Nothing to worry about long-term.” She was smiling as she peeked at the two humans.

Mandibles parting in disbelief, Vadix scoffed, “And what makes you so sure of that? I’ve investigated plenty of domestic disputes and they look eerily similar to the couples I’ve had to break apart to keep from injuring each other.” He didn’t like to be shown up.

Cass finally turned her full attention on him, and he wanted to squirm in response. She reminded him of his drill sergeants from boot camp, strict and daunting, knowing full well that they held all the power. “Well if you already know how to read a situation and understand what is really happening, what do you need me for?” Like the burning graze of a blaster shot, her voice sizzled, leaving him feeling slightly singed and maddened by the inconvenience.

His mandibles spread as he bared his teeth. “Nothing,” he hissed before stalking away from the brightest light he’d encountered since his parents had told him he was adopted.

#

Cassana watched her turian disappear, the wretched melancholy in her heart expanding as the distance between them increased. She felt the insecurities which constantly plagued her throwing themselves against the walls she’d built around her heart—to keep all the sadness inside, away from the prying eyes of anyone who might claim they wanted to know her soul.

She knew better: no one was selfless enough to truly care for another living thing.

It wasn’t really their fault, she knew. All sentient creatures were predisposed toward self-preservation, so they couldn’t help it that they always prioritized their own welfare above that of anything or anyone else.

Still, she had hoped that she could at least be friends with Vadix, even if he wasn’t excessively fond of her.

Sitting in somber silence a moment longer, Cass tried to collect her errant thoughts. After all, she had given her word to Commander Shepard that she would prepare herself as best she could, work as hard as she could, to be ready for whatever lay in store on this secret mission.

_I suppose I can go back to the training room_ , she thought despondently. She remembered seeing a punching bag. Surely that was something she could figure out on her own.

After a short walk back to C-Sec Headquarters that left her alone with her feelings for far too long, Cass was ready to hit something. _I can’t let him get under my skin_ , she reprimanded herself again. After all, he was only a man and had no real power over her. At least he shouldn’t.

Unlocking the door, Cass let herself into the empty room. A mix of relief and dejection washed through her. Moping, she picked up the gloves she’d used earlier that morning and put them on as she approached the punching bag. It was nearly as thick as she was, hanging from the ceiling, just waiting to be pulverized. She shrugged her shoulders and took a swing.

The force of impact reverberated through her entire body, jarring her jaw and all thoughts of exasperating turians. She frowned again, this time in confusion. It didn’t seem that difficult, but she knew she must be doing something wrong. If only she knew what it was.

Cass tried again, striking the bag in quick succession with both hands. She almost fell backward, catching herself just in time. She gritted her teeth, determined not to quit. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but she had to do something for training.

Continuing to throw her weight into her fists, she pounded the punching bag. Her mind cleared as she focused on a small rip in the thick fabric covering the sack, losing track of her conscious mind, determined to leave her mark.

“If that bag were punching back, you’d be on your ass by now.”

The sudden noise startled Cass and her swing went wide, knuckles glancing off the curved edge of the sack, her momentum pulling her forward off her feet. Cass twisted as she fell, landing on her back.

“Just like that,” Vadix stood above her, arms crossed. She was certain he was smirking at her, mandibles twitching just enough to see a hint of his sharp teeth. “Can I offer you some pointers?”

Grinding her teeth together, she scowled at him from her indignant position on the floor. “Only if you promise not to interrupt me again,” Cass managed.

A glint of humor lit his eyes and she suddenly remembered why he was so intriguing.

She pushed the thought out of her head as Vadix extended an arm toward her. Peering at him from beneath her lashes, she tentatively placed her hand in his. He hauled her off the ground—and she nearly landed in his arms.

Both took a quick step backward. Cass felt yet another blush creep across her face. Damn mammalian heritage. Oh, to be cold-blooded.

Vadix cleared his throat. “Take your position again,” he instructed, gesturing toward the punching bag.

Ducking her head, she moved away from him and faced her inanimate opponent, raising her fists in what she hoped was an acceptable manner, waiting for his coaching.

She felt him step up behind her. “You need to widen your stance,” he murmured before he used one of his feet to gently push one of her own away from the other. “Too close and you’re easily thrown off balance. Too wide and the power behind your punches will diminish.” Her feet moved again at his insistence, putting one ahead of the other. “You also want to angle your body rather than facing your attacker head-on. Keep those concepts in mind and then find a position that feels right to your body.” Cass fidgeted into a comfortable spot as he moved to stand in front of her, next to the punching bag.

“Good,” he nodded his approval. “Now, a live opponent isn’t going to stand still so you’ll also have to move. When you do, try to slide your feet, gliding instead of walking, so that you can maintain a strong base. It’s much harder to do when your feet are crossed or right next to each other. Now, practice moving backward and forward a few times.”

Swallowing her nerves down, Cass tried to skate her feet back one at a time, feeling like a slug. Vadix shook his head slightly, “You don’t necessarily need to keep your feet on the ground the whole time. Try taking quick, small steps in either direction.”

_That makes more sense_ , she thought. She tried again, feeling more like a fighter than a snail.

A vigorous nod from the turian told her she was on the right track. “Very good. Last tip of the day: when you throw a punch, you need to engage your entire body: core, shoulders, hips. The punching bag is a lot heavier than it looks so your fists meet a lot of resistance on impact, more than you’d expect. Though I suspect you’ve found that out already.” There was that smirk again, the tips of his pointed teeth teasing her.

Stepping toward her, he placed one hand on her stomach and the other on her shoulder blades. Cass nearly gasped: the electric jolt she felt from his touch was far more jarring than the impact of the punching bag. “Now try,” he whispered, the hum of his subvocals nearly overpowering his voice.

Cass focused again on the sack in front her and adjusted her hands inside the gloves. Tightening her abs, she slammed her fists into the hanging weight, one at a time.

Before Vadix even opened his mouth, she knew she had improved; she could feel the difference. Cass turned to her trainer excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “That felt amazing!” she exclaimed.

His turian smirk had morphed into something softer, but she couldn’t quite place the expression. “Good, I’m glad.” He paused before adding, “Now all you need is practice. And lucky for you, you can do that without me.” He bobbed his head sharply once before turning to leave.

“Wait,” she called out before the thought had quite registered in her brain. When Vadix faced her again, she thought he looked guarded, the earlier warmth in his eyes replaced with distance. “Er, that is,” she stammered, suddenly unsure. Though she wanted him to stay, it seemed he was eager to be rid of her presence, so she changed course. “I can suggest a couple of online resources about human facial expressions and body language, if you’d like,” she ended lamely.

“Oh,” he stammered. “Uh, sure, thanks. Send me the links?” Cass thought he was antsy to get away.

“Of course,” she answered quickly. “Right away.” Cursing herself mentally, she scrolled through her favorite sites on her omni-tool, found a few good ones that covered the basics, and forwarded them on.

His own omni-tool pinged in response. “Thanks,” he muttered. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, Vadix walked quickly out of the training room, leaving his human companion staring blankly at the door keeping everyone out.

Suddenly downcast, she whispered to the empty room, “Goodbye.”


	7. Expressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): https://www.verywellmind.com/an-overview-of-the-types-of-emotions-4163976#:~:text=During%20the%201970s%2C%20psychologist%20Paul,fear%2C%20surprise%2C%20and%20anger

The walk back to C-Sec Headquarters the next morning left Vadix feeling very uneasy. He worried about the comments people would make if they saw him there after he had suddenly disappeared with no advance notice. Surely his old superiors would make sure he never got another chance. Even his peers and subordinates seemed intent on keeping him down. All he would have to go on from here on out was the potential good opinion of the human Spectre Commander Shepard.

_Spirits, I hope I’m doing the right thing_.

Mandibles pulsing anxiously, he slipped into the large training room just after 0800, relieved for the existence of a back door to HQ. The longer he could postpone interacting with any old coworkers, the better.

Turning around, Vadix was surprised to see his new coworker rhythmically drilling her fists against the punching bag. It seemed she hadn’t heard him enter. He studied her form, noting the improved distance between her feet and the stronger force expended by her body. She still needed to work on the position of her arms, especially the first swing in each succession. And her elbows were spread too wide, almost encouraging the target to dodge her attacks. But not bad for a beginner.

Overall, he was most impressed with Cassana’s dedication. The red strands of her hair, so often jumping away from her head in time with her movements, seemed plastered to her skin. _How long has she been here?_ he wondered.

Maybe she’s not so un-disciplined after all.

Vadix moved toward her, feeling anxious again but for an entirely different reason. He stopped several feet away, level with the punching bag, and continued to watch her practice. Until she stopped.

“Vadix!” she exclaimed, overly loud. Blinking at the sudden volume, he nodded at her, trying not to grimace. He didn’t know humans could be so deafening.

Looking sheepish, Cass tapped a couple buttons on her omni-tool. “Sorry,” she breathed. “Music,” she added, gesturing to the small buds hanging over her ears. “Helps me focus.”

Grateful she was speaking at a normal volume again, Vadix was curious, “And just what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Oh, you know,” she stammered. “I tried a few different things but ended up with this asari group. Strong base line, sultry lyrics,” beginning to stumble over her words, Cass stopped. That same light pink was overtaking her face again.

Brow plates drawn together, Vadix grumbled, “After all the studying I did, I still can’t figure out what that means.”

Looking confused, Cass asked, “Figure out what _what_ means?”

He stepped closer to her and gingerly placed his hands on each side of her head, remembering how sharp his talons were compared to her soft flesh. Touching his thumb pads to the center of her cheeks, Vadix murmured, “This.” As if in response to the word, the color deepened, spreading toward her neck. He watched her lips part, but no sound came out. He cocked his head in wonder.

Her mouth closed as her throaty swallow broke the silence in the room and her step backward broke the contact between them.

“Well, what did you learn?” Her voice sounded different than normal. _Strange, I didn’t think humans had more than one vocal_. She looked at him expectantly, and Vadix filed that thought away for later. He needed to focus on the present.

“I learned that humans feel a wider range of emotions than turians do,” he chuckled. “Or at least they express a wider range of them.”

Removing the boxing gloves from her hands, Cass nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She seemed lost in thought, and Vadix didn’t want to interrupt her. He waited until, “Do you have any close friends who are human? Any humans you spend a lot of time around?”

Stepping backward involuntarily, he realized that he had almost forgotten his near-total isolation.

That’s what her presence did to him. For him.

Clearing his throat to stop his skipping subvocals, he responded, “No, I don’t.”

“Oh,” she muttered, frowning. “Well then I suppose you’re stuck with me,” a small smile slid across her lips. “Sorry,” she added with a shrug, though she didn’t sound apologetic.

Vadix trusted his voice just enough to say, “I can think of worse things.”

At this she really did grin—and her face ignited. _Spirits_.

“Perfect! Then I can help you learn about body language and you can help me learn about bodily combat. Deal?”

“Very well,” Vadix croaked, subvocals strangled by his mixed emotions: he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted someone—though to be fair he hadn’t ever wanted anyone before. Was this what it always felt like? Perhaps it was only a juvenile attraction, something that would fade the more time they spent together, the more they got to know each other.

Whatever it was, he was terrified.

Returning his mind to his present situation, he realized Cassana had been talking. And he’d heard none of what she’d said.

“Sorry, I-I missed that,” he dipped his head in apology.

Her face took on a funny form, mouth not quite turned up but not quite turned down either. It was like the outer edges of the line between her lips bounced up and down, and her eyes seemed to sparkle with… _something_. “Spirits, I wish I could tell what emotion you were feeling; your face just makes such strange shapes!” The frustrated words escaped him before he knew what he was saying.

This time her mouth formed a circle shortly before a wide grin took its place. “What an excellent idea,” she purred.

“What are you talking about?” The woman seemed all too pleased with herself for this to be a good idea.

“Well, you read the materials I suggested, right?” Seeing his head shake up and down, she continued, “Then how about I ‘perform’ the expressions you’ve read about so you can see them in action, and you guess what emotion it is I’m feeling?”

Vadix tilted his head again, considering. “That actually sounds reasonable, I suppose…”

“Good!” she cut him off before he could contradict his initial assessment. Cassana plopped abruptly onto the padded floor and patted the ground in front of her. Puffing one mandible away from his face, Vadix shrugged and sat down, if only to humor the human.

She smiled again, the expression falling onto her face easily. “Now, to start I’ll just do basic emotions so you can practice. Then depending on how things go we’ll try some harder emotions, or I may have you tell me exactly what I’m doing that indicates a certain emotion, I haven’t decided yet. Sound alright?”

Vadix was going to get to watch her intense eyes and her pert nose and her feisty mouth from mere feet away? An energetic nod expressed his agreement for him, mandibles flaring in a toothy grin. “Happy,” he was eager to begin, drinking in her own wide smile.

The lines of hair above her eyes jumped higher up her face, lips parting slightly. “Surprised,” he said, recognizing the widened eyes. _Odd that they can do that though: hide and reveal part of their eyes on command beyond a simple blink_.

Her mouth closed, the corners pulling down somewhat, and her eyebrows fell back into place, inching softly toward each other. “Sad,” he continued, beginning to feel more confident.

He watched her brows draw together even more, angling down toward her nose, and her lips pressed into a firm line. “Angry.” _I wonder what could make her actually angry_ , he wondered.

Not giving him time to dwell on the thought, her face morphed again. It seemed the lines of hair nearly touched her eyes, and the length of her nose crinkled together. Staring at the bizarre expression on her face, Vadix was stumped. His mandibles flapped once, twice. “I got nothing.”

Immediately her countenance softened into something much more pleasing, yet heartbreaking. “You must’ve never done anything really terrible in your life,” she sighed, voiced edged in pain. When she looked up from her lap, he probed her with his gaze. She answered his unspoken question, “That was disgust.” The corner of her mouth twitched up into a half smile that faded almost instantly.

“Cassana, I—” he began.

Shaking her head, she stopped him, “Oh no, we’re not done yet. There’s one more essential, basic human emotion.” Her eyebrows jumped again, sitting closer together than last time, and her eyes and mouth widened, lips parted slightly. This was one expression Vadix could recognize without practice. “Fear,” he spit.

“Vadix,” she started.

It was his turn to shake his head. “No, don’t try to dissect me right now. You first,” he insisted.

Peering up at him, Cassana paused, reflecting on her response. Appearing to decide something, she agreed, “Very well. What do you want to know?”

Her reply caught him off guard. Vadix hadn’t expected acquiescence from this fiery redhead. Trying to think quickly, he faltered, “Er, uh, I wondered, um, what were you thinking about for each emotion?” Remembering his train of thought a few emotions ago, hopefully he finished stronger than he started.

The left side of her mouth pulled out, the outer corner of her right eye squinting slightly as her eyes tilted upward. _What was that? Thoughtful? Remembering?_ His mind whirled. _Why was this species so damn complicated?_

“Do you want the easy answers?” Her question brought Vadix out of his reverie.

Looking down into her face he realized aloud, “I want the truth of you.”

#

This was a rather novel experience for Cass. She was so used to prying answers from the people she met; when was the last time anyone had asked her a personal question and really wanted to know the answer?

It did happen on occasion, she realized. After all, not everyone she encountered was entirely selfish. But most of the time she would only give half-assed or self-deprecating answers, preferring to talk about the other person’s history and present life. It was easier that way, better.

Yet staring at the turian in front of her, she found herself wanting to tell him the truth, to give him all the answers he wanted. All the answers she had.

For the first time since her mother was taken from her, she wanted to be _known_ by another creature.

Vadix inclined his head toward her, prompting her for a response.

Shaking her head at him but smiling softly, she finally said, “I was thinking about Tirral, this salarian I see regularly at the clinic. She always has a new joke to tell me. They’re never really that funny but I love how excited she is, and how she always makes it human-specific just for me.”

“That was your happy thought?” he sounded surprised, and she nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But that seems so…” He floundered for the right word, and Cass noticed his mandibles flicking in unison, to the right then left and back again. “Mundane,” he finally said.

Cass shrugged, “I suppose it is. But it still makes me happy.”

Considering this, Vadix also shrugged a shoulder, “Whatever it takes, I guess. And for surprised?”

“Actually, I was thinking about seeing you at the docking bay yesterday. I hadn’t expected to see anyone else there—let alone you!” She smiled shyly at him, feeling the smidge of a blush starting.

At this Vadix looked surprised. “You make it sound like you already knew me, but we’d never met.”

“No, we hadn’t met officially, but I’d seen you before. I thought we made eye contact but perhaps not,” she trailed off, shrugging. Cass knew even if she’d never seen him again after that first early morning, she never would’ve forgotten his face. But perhaps hers was lost to him in the sea of people. But she didn’t want to dwell, clinging to the connection she swore she’d felt, still holding out hope that he’d felt it too. “As for sad, I thought about this abandoned hamster I found in the Wards a couple months ago. It was injured and whoever it belonged to must’ve left it for dead. I tried to save it, but it died in my hands.”

“Wait. What’s a hamster?”

She blinked at him, incredulous, smacking his arm playfully. “How do you not know what a hamster is?”

Vadix stared at the spot she’d hit for a moment before his stormy eyes looked back up at her, intense. Slowly, he shook his head before his mandibles spread into a turian grin. “Sounds like a weird human thing,” he suggested, subvocals echoing mischievously.

Cass rolled her eyes at him. “Fine, I suppose you’re right. A hamster is a small furry creature some people keep as a pet.”

His smirk faded, “Oh. Then that is depressing. It sounds helpless.”

“It was,” she murmured her agreement. “I hate feeling helpless.”

Watching him peer at her, she wondered what he was thinking. Vadix seemed very intent on some notion, but whether it was related to her or to the hamster—or something else entirely—Cass wasn’t certain.

“And for anger?” he continued his questioning.

Cass frowned, “I remember being in primary school and watching the so-called ‘popular’ kids bullying everyone else, especially the kids who were smaller or slower or dirtier. I may have been young, but I still knew it was wrong and it made me mad; it still does.”

Nodding, Vadix asked, “So you’re the type to defend those who can’t defend themselves?”

“I don’t know if I would put it like that,” she countered, laughing. “That makes me sound far too valiant.”

He cocked his head at her, one brow plate raised while the opposite mandible hung away from his face. _Must be a turian smirk_ , she thought, staring him down.

Holding his talons up in surrender, Vadix conceded, “Fine, be modest if you must. Then what about disgust? That was the one I didn’t recognize, right?”

Cass sighed, nodding, wary of where the conversation was headed. “Yes, disgust. I thought about all the names people call me when they find out what it is I do.”

“Why do people have a problem with what you do?” The turian looked puzzled.

The human, too, was puzzled. _He didn’t ask **what** I do, only why people are disgusted by it_. “Well,” she began, caught off guard by the unexpected direction of his question. “I guess because they think…” Cass wasn’t sure how to put it into words. She wasn’t even sure she’d ever considered why what she did was so controversial. “Because they think I only do it for my own pleasure.”

“But it’s not for yourself, it’s to help others.” He made the statement like it was fact, indisputable.

She gaped, “Vadix, how can you say that? You don’t know what I do; you don’t even really know _me_!”

His talons gripped her hands in response. “I know you enough not to doubt your motives. Normal civilians don’t exactly jump at the chance to throw themselves into the path of a danger they aren’t prepared to withstand, one they don’t even understand. If I knew nothing else about you, that would be enough.” Cass felt like the dark pools of his eyes were inviting her to dive in.

If she did, she may never resurface.

“Oh.” The word was a mere breath on her parted lips.

The magnetism of his scrutiny was broken when Vadix finally blinked, shaking his head and clearing his throat loudly. Cass remembered to breathe again.

Subvocals twanging, the turian faltered, “Er, and for fear?”

Exhaling deeply, Cass wondered if she would tell him the truth. Daring to meet his gaze once more, somehow, she instantly felt that she trusted him, this man who was still more a stranger than a confidant. Remembering the pain she had recognized in his eyes that first day, Cass knew that despite his alien species, hurt and betrayal were not alien concepts to him.

She closed her eyes, letting the memory rise from the graveyard in her subconscious. “I was 14 years old when my mother was taken from me.”

His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, subvocals wrapping her in a dense embrace, “It’s never easy when someone we love dies. I’m so sorry for your loss, Cassana.”

Reveling in the way his two-toned vocals caressed her name, she paused to cherish the moment before correcting him. “She wasn’t killed. At least not right away. She was kidnapped by Fist’s thugs, hired by batarian slavers. To pay for her unrelenting red sand addiction.” Hearing the near snarl in her words, Cass hoped he wouldn’t probe for details. Her feelings on the matter were complicated to say the least. An attempt at a smile ended in a grimace.

For his own part, Vadix didn’t respond right away, giving her a moment to calm her raging emotions. Another try at a grin had better, if still timid, results.

“Well,” he said at last, looking at her from the corner of his eye. “How do you feel about hitting some shit?”

This time, she beamed easily at him. “Let’s fucking do it.”


	8. Learned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): https://lifehacker.com/basic-self-defense-moves-anyone-can-do-and-everyone-sh-5825528

Clambering to their feet, Vadix said to his human companion, “How early did you get here anyway?”

“Just a couple hours ago. I wanted to get here before you so I could practice without an audience. Hopefully I’ve improved marginally from yesterday. You don’t have to tell me I was horrible,” Cass said lightly.

The turian chuckled, “Glad you figured that one out on your own so I didn’t have to break the news to you. From what I saw this morning though, I would definitely say you’re already doing better. Ready for some more pointers?”

She gaped at him, “That’s all the praise I’m going to get? After such a stellar performance?”

Worrying he’d offended her, Vadix turned to apologize. Then, seeing the wide smile on her face, he realized she was only making fun of him. _Two can play at that game_. “That’s all the praise you’re going to get, period. Until you can best me in hand-to-hand combat,” he deadpanned.

She frowned at him but her eyes twinkled subtly as she put the boxing gloves on again. “As long as you don’t withhold critical knowledge from me in order to maintain your advantage.”

“On my honor as a turian, I would do no such thing,” he saluted her.

Snickering softly, she murmured, “Well, all’s fair…” Seeing his quizzical glance, she waved her arm through the air.

Which only made Vadix feel more puzzled. “What was that gesture?”

Cass’s eyes widened. “Oh! Wow, you really haven’t spent any casual time with a human, have you? Strange, you mimic so many human mannerisms I assumed you were already really familiar with our unique expressions. That was a pretty generic expression for ‘forget about it’ or sometimes ‘don’t mention it’. It’s pretty common. I’m surprised you’ve never seen it.”

His subvocals hummed, torn between embarrassment and censure. “Well, you hit the key point there: _casual_ time. I don’t really do casual time with anyone other than my family.”

Looking at him, she paused in front of the punching bag. “Fair warning: I’m going to ask you about that, sometime. But for now, I need your instruction.” And with that, she took her stance, facing her would-be opponent.

Vadix was relieved she’d left it alone. For now, at least. Eventually he’d have to come up with some explanation that would satisfy her.

_I could always just tell her the truth_.

He shook the thought from his head, returning to the present situation. He strode forward, stopping a few feet to her side. “Alright, next thing to pay attention to is the level of your arms. Until the moment when you actually swing, you’ll want to keep your forearms nearly vertical with elbows tucked in. Don’t let them flare out between punches. The other half of this is to keep your hands up to guard your face. If you leave too much space between your arms—anywhere between your fists and your elbows—you’re practically inviting the other person to strike you. Does that make sense?”

Cassana nodded her head, keeping her eyes on the bag in front of her, hands held up in front of her face.

“Lower them just a little—you still want to be able to see your opponent after all,” Vadix called out to her.

Complying with his directions, she took a couple practice swings. When she didn’t hear more correction, she continued to throw hits, tightening the muscles in her core. For such a small thing, relatively speaking, now she could really pack a punch. Vadix watched the punching bag’s small movements in response to the force she heaved at it.

After several minutes, Vadix moved to stand behind her, to observe her elbows: they were still tucked. Good, she protected herself from side swipes that way.

A few minutes passed and he decided to give her something else to worry about. “Another thing to think about until it becomes instinct: starting the motion from your hips, throw your punches straight out and then bring your hand straight back. Try not to let your arms move too far to the sides; any unnecessary movement gives your attacker time to block or dodge your attacks. Remember that the shortest distance from point A to point B is a straight line. In this case, your fist is point A and your enemy is point B. Don’t give them any extra time to prepare against you. And lastly, don’t overextend your arm. If you do, you’ll throw off your balance, putting yourself in a more vulnerable position.”

Bobbing her head, Cassana continued slamming her fists into the punching bag. Her movement were far more precise than they had been yesterday, and even quicker than they had been this morning. Vadix wondered how long she could keep it up without slipping into bad form.

Nearly 30 minutes passed. She had slowed down slightly but maintained the tight technique he’d taught her. He decided it was time to change things up. “Alright, I want to try something a little different.”

The human woman turned to face him, breathing hard. Her hair was starting to stick to her face again. And she was dripping… _something_.

“Spirits! Are you alright? You should’ve stopped if you were hurting yourself,” Vadix reprimanded her.

Cassana panted, “What are you talking about?”

He stared at her, mandibles hanging loosely in disbelief. “But you’re—you look like you’re leaking!” He reached out a gentle talon to touch the clear liquid that seemed to ooze from her brow.

One moment passed, their eyes locked, before the human threw back her head, roaring with laughter. Soon she was doubled over, no longer panting from the exercise but from the humor.

Vadix was not pleased.

Finally she stood up again and her face made that same funny expression again, taught lips with bouncing corners and eyes glinting with what Vadix now thought must be mirth. “You must’ve had human coworkers, right? Did you never work out with them or anything?” She looked like she was holding back continued laughter.

Feeling like she was laughing at him, Vadix shook his head, refusing to speak.

The amusement faded from her eyes as she seemed to realize how he was reacting to her laughter. “Oh, Vadix, I’m sorry. I was just so surprised by your question. I’m touched by your concern, but no one has ever asked me that. This is how a human body tries to cool down. It’s called sweat, and it’s totally normal.”

“Sweat?” He had heard the word before, usually in the phrase ‘no sweat’ but had thought it was simply an equivalent to the word ‘worry’.

Cass nodded, waiting for his next reaction.

He didn’t think she’d meant to offend him. Which was a novel concept for him. Vadix didn’t want to discourage their fledgling friendship by snubbing her. He sighed, “I suppose that’s no stranger than what turians do, in your eyes. When we’re hot, our mandibles beat out and in repeatably, encouraging air flow. I think your species calls it ‘gular panting’, whatever that means.”

Blinking at him, she agreed, “You’re right that does sound strange to me. Any idea how the other species stay cool?”

“I heard the krogan release excess heat in their piss, but dunno if that’s true,” he tried to keep a straight face.

His efforts at humor were justly rewarded when she snorted in response. _What a funny but pleasing noise_. “Please tell me you’re joking,” she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“No more than when I say the asari can only let off steam by getting laid.”

If Vadix thought her snort was cute, the sound she made now was one he knew he’d do anything to hear again. It was a charming sort of laughter that made her seem young and innocent and beautiful. “What do you call that?”

She paused and asked, “Call what?”

“That noise you’re making.”

Cass did it again, and he thought his sub-voice box might crack from the pressure of his pleasure. “I’m giggling.”

The flanging of his second tone reverberated in his chest where he tried to keep it away from her ears. He panicked, thinking she might interpret it to mean more than what it did. He was simply happy to make someone laugh. That was all.

It had nothing to do with who was doing the laughing.

Clearing his throat as deeply as he could, her giggles quieted soon after his subvocals. “Well, on that note,” Vadix sounded stiff to himself. “You ready for some more training?”

“Yes please!” she exclaimed, standing up straighter in her excitement. The top of her head still only reached the upper edge of his chest, at the base of his neck cowl.

He found a pair of thick boxing mitts and faced her again, putting them on quickly. “Good.” His voice sounded normal again. Almost. “Obviously any potential attackers won’t be standing still so you’ll be moving in a larger three-dimensional space than what you’ve practiced in so far. In order to imitate real life, your goal is to hit the mitts I’m wearing while still maintaining the form you’ve practiced. Okay?”

“Yes, I can do that,” she sounded determined.

“Remember to glide your feet like I said yesterday.”

He slowly paced in a circle around her and she met him head on every step of the way. At first she stumbled a few times, falling short or missing the mark, but a quarter of an hour later she was hitting his padded palms each time. And each time, her power increased as she found her rhythm. Offering suggestions every few swings, Vadix kept his hands still until she had done several rounds without a misstep.

When his reminders were rarely needed, he began to move his arms in two-dimensions: away from her and she was falling short again, even overextending at times, nearly tipping over; toward her and her power was diminished due to unfinished swings; hands farther apart from each other and her brow tightened, having to focus more on the location of her target, punches glancing off the sides of the mitts.

Vadix worried his constant technique pointers were going to irritate her, but she never said a word. Cassana only made the adjustments he suggested, and then kept swinging.

Nearly an hour later and her pace started to falter, though her form was still nearly impeccable no matter where the boxing mitts were in relation to her body.

Until they were above her head.

Falling for the trick, she jumped with a fist in the air. Vadix was impressed to see the other arm still protecting her face. But, as he’d expected, she’d left her torso wide open.

He jabbed her in the side with a lifted knee, pushing her, mid-jump, onto the ground.

Cassana landed hard, sputtering. “What was that?” she stormed.

“A cheap shot,” he grinned, mandibles flaring.

“I’ll say!” She did not sound at all happy.

The turian dropped to the floor, nearly sitting on his heels. “That was the point: your enemy isn’t going to fight fair. Do you remember what I said when we started? About protecting your head and body?”

She skewered him with her glower. “Now I do,” she grumbled.

He softened his smile, reassuring her, “Your form is excellent, Cassana. But even more important than technique are principles like this. If you leave yourself open for a ‘cheap shot’, your opponent will take it. While I don’t know any more about this mission than you do, I would bet all my credits that anyone we’ll be fighting isn’t going to play by the rules.”

From her sprawled position on the mat, she pouted at him, “I know that.”

“I know you know it here,” he placed a talon on her temple. “But you need to know it here,” he moved to her chest, touching the spot over her heart.

“I think you mean here,” Cass whispered, using her hand to drag his to the other side of her chest. “Human hearts. Left side of the body.” Her voice was as silky as his favorite sheets. It made him want to wrap himself in the sound.

“Oh,” Vadix exhaled. “Turians. Right side.”

Raising his gaze to meet hers, he noticed the black centers of her eyes had widened—he’d never noticed that happen before; _was that normal?—_ and her lips were parted. He felt like she was asking him something, asking him for something.

But in his xeno-ignorance, he had no idea what it was.

Vadix cleared his throat again and pulled away, about to apologize.

The sharp edge of his talon caught on the fabric she wore.

“Shit,” the turian swore under his breath.

He noticed that there was now a rip running from one shoulder to the other, where it dipped down about an inch. “Oh, Cass, shit! Switching sides, must’ve caught it then, and just now, now it’s worse! Spirits, I’m so sorry! Can it be fixed?”

Vadix was worried sick. It was just his luck to go and screw up the only friendship he’d had in, well, ever. _Were humans really attached to their clothing? Did this shirt have sentimental value to her?_ Spirits, he hoped not. Maybe he could still salvage the situation. It was only day two. He couldn’t let the Commander down. Or Cassana. He could still train her. If she’d let him. And he needed her help. Desperately. He was a lost cause without her.

Pulling her neck back, she stuck her chest out to get a better look at the damage. “Oh, that’s nothing. Honestly, I could probably just leave it and, if anyone asks, I bet I can get away with saying it’s a fashion statement, or some such.”

If he let his eyes lose focus slightly, she almost looked like a turian with her chest protruding like that.

He hadn’t noticed before how attractive her torso was. Despite the differences in anatomy—most notably the spherical bulges on her upper chest instead of the steady deepening of a turian’s upper body—Vadix was entranced, wondering if all of her was soft to the touch.

A shift in her posture drew his attention again. “You still with me?” she asked, a cheeky smile touching her lips.

“Uh, yes, sorry, what?” He was reeling with curiosity and craving.

Her smile widened, eyes twinkling again with something Vadix couldn’t recognize. “You’ve never really seen a human woman before, have you?”

Brow plates pulling down and mandibles flattening against his face, he frowned. “I’ve seen plenty of humans. Of both sexes. Why do you ask?”

Cass rolled her eyes, giving him a look as she stood. “That’s not what I mean, Vadix. I’ve seen that expression before, many times: inquisitive with a hint of lust. It’s common among salarians and turians who don’t often interact with humans, though the latter are far less likely to act on any…urges.” She seemed to choose her words carefully, watching him.

A wave of jealousy rolled through him as his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, teeth bared at the object of his desire.

For her part, the human looked moderately surprised, murmuring, “Now that is not a reaction I’ve seen before.”

Vadix snapped his jaw shut and stepped away from her. “Cassana, forgive me. I don’t know what came over me.” Indeed, he’d never felt such emotions before and had no idea how to manage them.

“It’s alright. I’m not upset with you,” she reassured him with earnest words and smoky eyes. “I’m sorry I offended you. It wasn’t my intention.”

The turian cocked his head. “Offended me? You’ve done no such thing. I just…” he wrestled for the right expression.

Taking a step toward him, she placed a hand on his arm. “No worries. I think I understand,” she smiled softly to reinforce her statement. Then her lips morphed into something Vadix could only describe as primal and she closed the gap between them. “Just think: maybe some day you’ll get to do some exploring of human biology, up close and personal.”


	9. Developed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Vadix hadn’t quite recovered from the impact of her innuendo before Cassana spoke again, smirking but appearing completely nonplussed by the implications of her statement. “Shall we continue where we left off?” Replacing the boxing glove she’d removed earlier, she took her fighting stance again.

_Sparring, she means sparring_ , he reminded himself, willing his lower plates to remain where they were. He didn’t know if turians were inherently worse at ignoring sexual impulses than humans were, or if he was simply weak. Either way, given that he’d opted for casualwear instead of armor today, he didn’t want this redheaded woman to know just how much she affected him.

Nodding, he approached her poised figure, this time without the mitts. Seeing the confusion on her face, he answered, “Keep your gloves on. We’re just going to do some hand-to-hand basics, but I don’t want you to injure your hands from hitting my carapace. To start I just want you to hit me, concentrating on punching through me and not just making contact. That will increase your power. This is subtly different from overextending: depending on the length of your reach, you still want to maintain a good distance from your assailant, but you also want to aim beyond your target. Got it?”

“Yes,” she agreed. When he began to circle her, she followed him with her body, keeping him in front of her at all times.

Striking quickly, she took a swing at the towering turian. A small jolt hit him in the abdomen. “I think you can do better than that,” he taunted, wondering how much physical power she actually possessed.

Her eyebrows drew together and Cassana punched him again, one fist following the other in rapid succession. The subsequent shudder was stronger than the first and Vadix nodded in approval. “Again,” he said.

They continued like this for another half an hour, that curious clear liquid again starting to drip off her face, until he could feel his abdomen beginning to throb faintly. He easily parried her next swing. Brow furrowed, she tried again but the gloves still didn’t make contact. “Not good enough,” he droned, affecting a lazy demeanor, hoping to incite her further.

It worked.

A barrage of blows caught him by surprise, driving him back toward the wall as he absorbed her strokes with his forearms. Vadix noticed the tiniest of pauses between punches when she switched from left to right. After a couple more rounds to confirm the consistency of this variance, his talons flashed out from his body, gripping her right arm and spinning both of them around until she landed solidly against the wall where he held both of her wrists above her head.

They were both breathing hard, breathing the same air that hovered in the inches between their noses.

Vadix was once again overwhelmed by the alien before him. Inhaling deeply, struggling to calm his racing heart, he felt like he could scent her soul, drink her in, the whole Cassana, and not just the parts of herself that she allowed to be displayed one at a time.

A knee to the groin dropped him to the ground and out of his uncharacteristic philosophical reverie.

“Spirits,” he moaned.

Cassana made a face, something between a grin and a grimace, “I was just practicing the principle you taught me earlier.” Eventually the grin won out.

“And what exactly was that?” he wheezed out.

“Well, I guess it was the reverse of what you said. You talked about how our adversaries won’t play by the rules, they’ll take the cheap shots. So, I thought I might as well take the cheap shots as well.”

He would be impressed if he weren’t in so much pain. “Should’ve seen that one coming, I suppose.”

Kneeling in front of him, Cassana frowned. “Maybe it’s time we took a break from combat training.”

The sting was ebbing away, albeit slowly, and Vadix murmured faintly, “I couldn’t agree more.”

#

She led the way to the Upper Markets where Cass hoped they would have better luck than the day before. She still didn’t know what Vadix’s problem had been so she couldn’t be sure if it would go any smoother. However, she had brought along sketch books and pencils, thinking those would help him look a little less unnerving, even if it was only a ruse.

Finding an empty bench with a decent view, she sat down and gestured for her turian companion to do the same. Cass thought he looked nervous, but that was certainly an improvement to yesterday’s outright irritation.

Before beginning her explanation, she was struck with inspiration. “Vadix, did you ever do undercover work at C-Sec?”

He blinked a couple times, mandibles mirroring his surprise. “Well, yes, a few times. Why do you ask?”

“Because that’s what we’re going to do right now!” She knew she sounded too pleased with herself, but she really wanted him to understand how assuming an artist’s façade would help them achieve their true purpose in being there. Seeing his confused expression, she continued, “What we want to do is watch the people around us and try to discern what they’re feeling, even thinking, right? But we can’t just stare at them or they’ll notice and get uncomfortable: at best they walk away and at worst they call security. So,” she pulled the supplies out of her bag, “we’re going to act like we’re drawing. Then any sense of scrutiny people may feel can be easily attributed to art. Does that make sense?”

Vadix was nodding before she finished talking. “Brilliant, great idea,” he agreed.

_Wow, that was easy_ , she was stunned.

Each took one pad of paper and a pencil and faced the crowds. Cass was about to suggest a subject for Vadix then thought better of it. “Is there anyone you see whose expression catches your interest?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Hm,” she heard his subvocals echo with indecision, a strange almost-sound she couldn’t quite pinpoint. Peering out at the people surrounding them, Vadix eventually settled on a nearby human man speaking with an asari. “Those two,” he murmured.

“Alright, good choice. Now just pretend to draw them so you can study his face and try to understand the emotions he’s feeling.”

He turned toward her abruptly. “What do you mean, ‘pretend’?”

“I mean, that’s the point of this exercise—we just don’t want anyone getting creeped out by us watching them. But if you actually want to draw them, I guess that would work too. Just make sure you focus on the underlying emotions and not just the outside picture,” she trailed off.

The turian was already sketching.

If Cass had that kind of skill, she probably would’ve been offended at the idea of pretending as well.

Pencil and talons danced across the page, bringing the scene before them to life. Cass could scarcely look away. What felt like seconds later, the human man’s expression was captured on paper. She noted the slight narrowing of his eyes, the turn of his head, the hint of a smile on his lips. It was a perfect replica.

And it was breathtaking.

“Vadix,” she whispered in awe. “How did you learn to draw like this? It’s amazing!” Her fingers reached out to gingerly stroke the flirtatious face looking up at her.

When she looked up at his, Vadix was looking away, brow plates pulled up and in with mandibles fluttering. Cass cocked her head in wonder. “Why are you embarrassed? I’m trying to compliment you,” she explained softly.

She had started to wonder if he was ever going to return her gaze when he turned to face her, clearing his throat. “I had a lot of free time in the academy and I wanted to use it productively. Sketching was a good stress-reliever while also being a valuable skill: if I ever needed to draw a likeness based on a victim’s description, I would be able to.” His voice was even, but she thought she could practically _feel_ some emotion he was working to keep hidden.

Reaching out to reassure him, Cass placed a hand on his arm, nearly level with her head, and rubbed his shoulder with her palm. “Well, you seem to have mastered that particular skill,” she responded, hoping she wasn’t making him even more uncomfortable.

The silence was tense as Vadix held her gaze, stretching between them like lightning potential between opposing electrical charges. Smiling shyly up at him, she just wasn’t sure if the inevitable strike would bring devastation or development.

A deep rumble emanating from the turian next to her startled Cass out of her thoughts. Instinctively she jerked her hand back toward her body, but her fingers caught in his fringe, yanking a yet deeper groan out of him.

“Cassana,” he murmured what sounded like a warning, placing one talon on her thigh and using the other to extricate her raised hand.

She felt a blush steal across her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Vadix, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about what I was doing, it just happened. But it won’t happen again.” _Well, that confirms it_ , she thought morosely. _I’m not his type_. After all, according to all the research she’d done, a male turian’s fringe was an erogenous zone.

She hadn’t lied when she said she hadn’t been thinking about what she was doing; it had just happened. But obviously Vadix didn’t like it coming from her.

Which meant he simply wasn’t interested in her.

_Maybe he’s gay_.

That would be easier to accept while still spending time with him. Cass wasn’t sure if she could handle watching him flirt with other women. She may not be an expert, but she expected he was attractive by turian standards, so it was bound to happen.

_Please be gay_ , she hoped desperately.

Vadix cleared his throat again. “Want me to keep going?”

“I’m sorry, what?” she was completely lost for the moment.

“Sketching?” he gestured to the paper in their laps. “I’m not gonna learn all these human expressions by only looking at just one, right?”

Hurriedly, she nodded. “Right. Yes. Of course. Um, do you see another expression nearby that catches your interest?”

Scanning the crowds, his gaze settled on a human shopkeeper. “That guy,” he pointed.

“Great,” Cass agreed, slowly pulling herself back to the here and now. “Just keep drawing different expressions. Try to find ones that differ subtly from the ones you’ve already drawn. The six basic emotions I demonstrated for you are building blocks. There are hundreds more facial expressions, but many will share common characteristics. What I want you to do is basically to create a library with your sketches. Then you can compare them and start to notice the small differences that exist as well as the similarities.”

And with that, Vadix got to work.

And Cass could only stare at him and his art.

After the flirtatious man, he drew the polite shopkeeper. Then an angry customer at the next stall, followed by a surprised mother and her loving child. The turian then turned his attention to a contemptuous security guard and a nearby civilian who looked ashamed.

Losing track of the time, she also lost count of the people and their emotions now filling the hobby book she had bought yesterday.

When there were no more blank pages in the turian’s pad of paper, she wordlessly passed him her own. His mandibles grinned in quick thanks before he set to work once more.

Once again, she watched him in a daze. The deft skill of his talons, thick and graceless in appearance, were nimble and agile, moving the pencil in fluid motions across the page. He used feather-light basic shapes to construct the foundation of his subjects, which were then repeatedly smoothed into the semblance of a human face before the details of the individual and their emotions were added.

When Vadix was about halfway through her notebook, she touched his elbow before he started another sketch. “Do you want me to go get some more paper?” she asked quietly, afraid to disrupt his reverie.

Looking down into her face, he nodded, his brow plates pulled up, eyes wide, with mandibles splayed in a grin, displaying his genuine excitement.

Smiling at his innocent expression, Cass stood up and wandered over to the stall she’d visited last night. While the “daytime” merchant rifled through stacks of books to help another customer, she let her fingers wander over the rows of art supplies and writing utensils.

While this was only a method to help teach Vadix about human emotions and how they were expressed, she could tell he was delighted to be sketching. Something told her he hadn’t been able to draw like this, for such an extended period, for a long time. And there was something so striking about the pure, untainted joy she’d seen on his face—and although she didn’t have much in the way of spare credits, he deserved to have better tools than the cheap paper and pencils she’d bought yesterday.

Knowing nothing about the products in front of her, she asked a nearby patron for a recommendation. The timid asari pointed out a rectangular pencil along with a thicker pad of paper, spiral bound on the long edge. Cass dipped her head in thanks and presented the two items to the human behind the counter.

She could feel his eyes on her—though he had yet to meet her gaze—and she felt her face flush. While she was by no means opposed to sexual encounters, it still wasn’t something she rushed into, and it certainly wasn’t something she encouraged without purpose. Of all the partners she’d had in bed (or various other locations) only one had been solely for her own benefit and pleasure. And when he’d cheated on her with a coworker, she had decided the whole relationship thing wasn’t for her. Instead, she offered companionship and recuperation to those who most needed it. If that healing process would benefit from intercourse, who was she to deny a wounded soul the curative help they needed?

The man smirking lasciviously at her now appeared to be closer to a serial rapist than a hurting human being. He was beyond her help.

And all she wanted was to be beyond his reach.

Cass tried to pay quickly for the pencil and book, but before she could depart his hands darted out, grasping her wrists.

“What’s your hurry, sweetheart?” the man purred greasily. “Surely you’re in no rush to get back to that thick alien.” He glanced past her, eyes narrowing. “Seems he’s the artist, not you, so why are you the one buying supplies? Are you his errand girl?” His hungry gaze slid back up her body and, when his cunning eyes met her own, she felt a tangle of fear and bile rise in her throat.

Looking around for the shy asari, she realized there was no one hanging around the shop: she was entirely alone. “No,” she stammered, failing to imbue her voice with the strength she wished she had. She wasn’t sure any of the self-defense lessons had been ingrained into her yet, but maybe she could lie her way out of this. “He’s my boyfriend,” she tried, sounding only slightly false.

A sarcastic disappointed look crossed the man’s face and he clucked his tongue. “You really think I would’ve picked you if I thought there was even a remote chance of him noticing me?” he sneered. “No, not a chance.” Suddenly yanking her closer, he leaned over the counter and gripped both her hands in one of his, placing his face inches from hers.

“You know,” he continued, his free hand now stroking her cheek and slowly moving down her neck and shoulder, causing her to shiver with disgust. “I’m an artist myself. And I can easily see that you’re not. On the contrary, you’re a muse. One who deserves to be worshipped on paper, without all these layers and disguises,” he trailed off, pulling the recent tear in her shirt down toward her sternum.

Seeing his shrewd eyes light up with a gross sense of glee at the revelation of her curves, Cass pulled against the vice of his hand, attempting to wrench herself free. “Let me go,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

This time, his eyes iced over before they slowly met her gaze. It wasn’t the first time she’d been the recipient of lewd advances, but it was the first time she felt true terror for herself at the hands of another person. _Damn, if only I had learned what to do when there’s an obstacle between me and my attacker. But Vadix did tell me to leverage my weight, and that my head is one of my built-in weapons,_ she began to formulate a mental plan to keep his grimy paws off of her.

His stare was broken when his gaze flicked beyond her then back, a dissatisfied glare taking the place of his predatory lust. “It seems your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t as oblivious as he appears,” he hissed, finally releasing her from his grip and quickly disappearing into the backroom.

Relieved to be putting distance between herself and that creep, Cass snatched the purchased art supplies and hurried back to the bench where she’d left her sketching turian.

Who was no longer sketching.

Instead, he was staring at her. And he seemed to be positively fuming.

She stopped in her tracks.

“Vadix, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” She hurried closer to him, concerned.

Standing to his full height above her, his incensed eyes met her own anxious expression. “Am _I_ okay?” The dangerous tone of his subvocals was clearly audible, far more than the earlier uncertainty. “You’re asking me if _I’m_ okay?” He gripped her shoulders with his talons, and she could feel their razor tips jutting through her shirt onto her skin.

Cass placed her hands on his elbows, trying to reassure him so he wouldn’t completely rip her clothing to shreds. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” she attempted to appease the turian. She wasn’t sure how much he had seen.

His eyes closed with their brow plates squeezed down as his mandibles flared wider than she’d yet seen, exposing the sharp teeth normally hidden from view. She was pulled closer to him by his tightened grip. “You asked me what was wrong. That _man_ you were talking to just now is what’s wrong. I don’t know what emotion I saw in his face, but I could see the fear in yours and the way he was touching you—I was about two seconds away from ripping his throat out with my teeth,” he seethed.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she whispered, resting a hand on his chest to steady herself as she reached up to rub the taught point where his brows met his nose plate. “Vadix,” she continued tenderly. “I’m fine, nothing happened. He didn’t hurt me. Okay?” She kept stroking until his face relaxed and he opened his dark eyes, piercing her to the heart.

Vadix pulled her yet closer to him until they were mere inches apart. “I may not be an official C-Sec officer anymore, but to me the oath I took to protect the Citadel’s citizens is as binding today as the day I swore to fulfill it. That includes you. Understand?”

The passion in his voice, repeated by those delicious subvocals of his, weakened the walls she’d built around her attraction to this strangely magnetic man in front of her. _He’s gay, he’s gay, he’s gay_ , she chanted to herself. Even the creepy shopkeeper could tell he felt nothing for her. This sudden intensity he was demonstrating was nothing more than a manifestation of some turian sense of duty to protect.

But her attempted mantra stuck about as well as a salarian stuck to a single train of thought.

She couldn’t help the tremor of hope that stained her voice when she replied, “I understand.”


	10. Attached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): an article from the website Pew Pew Tactical, “4-firearms-safety-rules”, and several articles from the Mass Effect Fandom wiki (Weapons, M-8 Avenger, M-23 Katana, and M-92 Mantis).

Vadix breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn’t explain to himself why he was so worked up. “Good,” he replied awkwardly, releasing his grip on Cassana’s arms. “I think we’ve stayed here long enough. How about we head back to the training room and introduce you to some firearms?” He was not keen to remain in the vicinity of _that shop_ , and he suspected his companion felt the same.

Her vigorous nod confirmed his suspicions. “Yes please,” she agreed quietly.

In somber silence the pair made their way back to C-Sec Headquarters, ducking into the back entrance unnoticed. Vadix was still amazed—and grateful—that he had yet to be spotted by any old coworkers.

Walking across the training room, Vadix approached the weapons locker. “Let’s see what we have here,” he mused. His own weapons were stored in the barracks and he felt a pang of longing for them. _Except they’re no longer mine_ , he thought miserably. They were given as part of his assignment to Citadel Security eight years ago. Luckily there were several firearms stored in the locker—whether the Commander had put them there or C-Sec supplied the training room, he wasn’t sure. Either way, Vadix was grateful he didn’t have to sneak into the barracks for his old firearms.

He felt Cassana at his elbow, trying to peek around him. “Have you ever fired a gun before?” he asked her, amused.

“I’ve only ever seen them,” she shook her head. “Though not in action, thankfully,” she added, darting a worried look at him.

Her expression reminded him of the pretend fearful face she’d made the other day but was subtly different. “What’s wrong?” he wondered.

Again she shook her head, looking thoughtful. “Nothing’s wrong, exactly. It’s just…” Cassana trailed off, peering at him with concern. “Well, the only time I’ve even seen a gun in person was when my mother was taken—not exactly a pleasant memory,” she grimaced.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he replied awkwardly. Getting only a shrug in response, he pushed on, hoping he wasn’t going to make her feel more uncomfortable. “Do you think learning more about how they work would help? Or would that make this worse for you? I mean, Commander Shepard did say you needed to learn the basics of using a firearm, and I thought perhaps understanding the mechanics might be a good introduction.” Vadix felt entirely too flustered to be speaking at all, let alone teaching someone about weaponry. He just didn’t know how to handle the situation.

But her answering smile, though small, set him more at ease. “I think that’s a great idea,” she murmured gratefully. “I’m not sure I’m ready to fire one just yet, but like you said: maybe understanding will help me get over my qualms.”

Mandibles fluttering with relief, he gestured for her to follow him to the weapons bench. Vadix picked up an already detached heat sink and turned to face the human. “The firearms in use today are essentially tiny mass accelerators. They use magnetic force and mass-reducing fields to shoot projectiles out of the gun at supersonic speeds. Inside each weapon is a block of metal. Each ‘bullet’ is shaved off that metal chunk, about the size of a grain of sand. That little piece of shrapnel is then condensed in a mass effect field before being propelled out of the gun toward your target at a lethal velocity. Still with me?”

Her eyebrows were pinched in what Vadix assumed was concentration, and Cassana nodded.

He handed the heat sink to her, and she looked at the small item quizzically. “That is a thermal clip,” he continued. “Because ammunition is basically limitless, what users have to worry about is overheating: each time the weapon is fired, it generates heat. Firing shots in quick successions makes that heat accumulate. Too much buildup, and the gun will stop working until it has cooled down sufficiently. Using that little clip allows the firearm to dispense of the excess heat without loss of function. Got it?”

“I think so,” she nodded slowly. “So, in a long firefight, anyone using a gun would need to have some extras of these things, right?” Cassana held up the heat sink, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Yes, very good,” the turian agreed.

Tapping the box to her cheek, she asked, “Do all firearms use the same type of—whatever this is?” She held it up again.

Vadix chuckled, plucking it from her fingers. “Yes, luckily heat sinks are universal. Here, I’ll show you.” Placing the thermal clip back on the bench, he removed three of the guns from the weapons locker. “The safety is engaged, on all of these,” he reassured her, seeing the anxiety growing in her eyes. “And currently none of them have a heat sink attached, so they wouldn’t fire even if the safety was off. Alright?”

A tight nod was her only response.

_Spirits, this is going to be more difficult than I thought_.

Pointing to the first of the three guns laid out on the table, he explained, “This is a common assault rifle, the M-8 Avenger. It’s fairly easy to use so when you start practicing—don’t worry, not yet—we’ll probably use this one first. The next is the M-23 Katana, a shotgun, popular among mercenaries. And the last is a sniper rifle, the M-92 Mantis. It’s frequently used by police, including C-Sec, and utilizes a single shot fire mode.” He paused, turning toward his slightly queasy-looking companion. “Are you alright, Cassana? We can take a break if you need to.” Vadix worried he was pushing her too far, too quickly.

“No,” she said without emotion. “Keep going. I can handle it. I have to,” she finished her sentence aloud, but it sounded like she was talking to herself.

He placed a tentative palm on her shoulder. “If you’re sure,” he prodded gently.

Patting his hand with her own hand once, Cassana moved closer to the bench, and closer to the potentially deadly firearms. She gingerly laid her fingers on the grip of the assault rifle, while her other hand gripped the table’s edge, knuckles white. “This is the Katana?” The words were timid, but the turian could only see the bravery in her actions.

Vadix lifted her arm by the elbow and set her hesitant palm on the barrel of the middle gun. “That’s the Katana. A shotgun useful at short range, but at long range it’s ineffective.”

“Remind me what this one is?” She moved her hand back to the first in the lineup, letting her fingers glide slowly along the curved top edge.

“The Avenger,” he supplied, wondering what exactly she was thinking.

She stroked the stock with her thumb. “And this was the one you said is easy to use?” she pondered aloud.

He nodded before he remembered that Cassana couldn’t see him. “Yes,” he answered.

“Where does the clippy thing go?” she queried, turning around. A faint pink colored her cheeks. “Sorry, I forgot what it’s called,” she apologized.

Shaking his head, he replied, “You remembered the concept, that’s what’s important. The thermal clip goes here on the Avenger.” He attached the heat sink easily.

“And how does it come off?”

After demonstrating twice how to remove and attach the clip, he gestured for her to try. When he saw the alarm in her face he nearly changed his mind, but she had already gently gripped the gun in her hands. It took her a long moment to locate the release button but when she did, Cassana beamed up at him. “I did it!” she exclaimed proudly.

All Vadix wanted to do was bask in her glow, but he summed up the energy to reply, “Good job.” His encouraging words were at odds with his faintly disappointed subvocals, but he didn’t think the human woman would pick up on the contradiction. “Now re-attach it,” he instructed.

Managing to clip in the heat sink more quickly than she had removed it, she practiced a couple more times. “Can I try on the next one?”

“Of course,” Vadix answered, stepping aside. “Remember what this one is called?”

Cassana bit her lip, thinking. “The Katana?” She smiled broadly when she saw his confirming nod. “And let’s see, I know from vids that the sniper rifle is that one,” she pointed at the Mantis. “And we were just working on the assault rifle, so this one must be the shotgun, right?” Again, the turian agreed and the human grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Where does the clip go?”

Pointing out the correct spot on the weapon, Vadix stepped back to let her try on her own. The concept, after all, was the same for any firearm. And it wasn’t a very difficult concept anyway.

After she had slid the heat sink in and out of place several times on the Katana, she turned to the third gun. “Remind me what’s this one’s name?”

“That’s the Mantis. But it’s not a name really, just a model. These three aren’t unique, I can tell you that much.” Her naivety was humorous, even endearing—if he allowed himself to think about it.

Frowning up at him, Cassana pursed her lips. “Naming them helps me remember which is which: Avenger, Katana, Mantis. For example, if my friend were ‘assaulted’, I would want to avenge them. So, Avenger is an assault rifle. And Mantis looks like those weird insects on earth, with their forelimbs that look they’re praying, just like the long nose of this Mantis.”

“And what about Katana?” he asked her, stifling laughter.

Pulling her eyebrows together, she replied, “I’m still working on that one. Ask me again tomorrow.” Then she turned and practiced attaching and removing the thermal clip from the sniper rifle.

“Whatever works,” Vadix murmured, admiring the fortitude of this surprising woman. “I must say,” he began ponderously. “You seem to have become quite enthralled with them, despite your initial reticence. The firearms, I mean,” he clarified.

“Oh,” she stopped what she was doing. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” She sounded astonished.

He couldn’t help his curiosity. “What changed?”

Gazing up into his face, a strange expression crossed her own. “You know, I’m not entirely sure. The only explanation that comes to mind…” she trailed off, momentarily lost in thought. “Well I guess it’s just the environment, isn’t it? My first experience with guns was when my mother was forcibly taken. Her kidnappers pointed their weapons at me, threatened to shoot me, even torture me, so that she would go with them willingly—the batarians prefer their slaves to be in decent health after all.”

Vadix was shocked by the passionless way she said this, but she continued speaking and he didn’t have time to process anything beyond the actual words she said.

“Whereas here, in this room, I don’t feel any fear at all—other than the echoes of that memory in my head. I feel entirely safe here with you, and that sense of security helped me push down the terrifying haze of that night,” she finished, a soft smile playing on her lips as he met her eyes.

Her steel grey stare was mesmerizing, the color of gloom with the radiance of optimism.

“So what’s the next lesson?” The question broke through his enthralled reverie. Blinking, Vadix noticed how cheerful Cassana looked. Ten minutes ago she had been completely lost and unsure, yet here she was, apparently conquering this deeply ingrained fear.

Cocking his head, the turian examined her eager face. “Safety rules, that’s the next lesson. Frankly, I should’ve covered these before letting you even touch a gun, but, I suppose it’s worked out alright. We definitely won’t be shooting anything until you’ve got these four rules embedded in your memory. Let’s sit down,” he stated as he took a seat at the weapons bench.

Once Cassana had settled onto another stool, Vadix held up one talon. “The first rule of firearms is to treat every gun as if it were ready to fire. Anytime you handle one, check that your weapon’s safety is engaged and the heat sink is detached. The only exception is when you step up to the range for practice—or whenever you’re on duty.” Pausing, he added, “Well I’m not sure if that’s the right word for what we’ll be doing with Commander Shepard, but you know what I mean, right?”

She nodded, a wide grin splayed across her face with eyes alight.

Vadix thought he was starting to recognize what mirth looked like on this human. “Are you laughing at me?” he challenged jokingly—he hoped it came out that way—and narrowed his eyes, one brow plate raised.

“No sir,” Cassana deadpanned, somehow pulling her expression into the epitome of subservience, dipping her head into a humble bob.

But not before Vadix saw a smirk flash across her face. “I saw that,” he purred dangerously. “If I were your CO, there’d be hell to pay.”

Her head quirked up in response. “Wait, what’s a CO?”

A bark of laughter escaped him before he knew what was happening. “I’m sorry, sorry. That was just entirely unexpected. You caught me off guard,” he apologized sheepishly, seeing her eyebrow raised in displeasure.

Then she smiled and rolled her eyes at him. “It’s fine, Vadix. I’m only teasing you. But I do still want to know what ‘CO’ stands for,” she prompted.

“Commanding officer,” he supplied. “Basically, your CO is the one who takes responsibility for your actions, should you do something questionable. If you look bad, your CO looks bad. And no one likes that. So they always try to hammer out any unpleasant behavioral habits while you’re training in the academy. It helps avoid any future objectionable issues. Like eye rolling,” he smiled in an uncharacteristically playful mood, pushing her knee and causing her stool to spin.

The motion elicited a giggle from the human, and Vadix felt his subvocals humming with amusement, reflecting the grin he felt stretched between his mandibles.

_Spirits, focus Vadix, dammit!_ he mentally berated himself.

Clearing his throat to regain control of his auditory system, the turian queried his partner, “Er, ready for rule number two? We’ve still got three to go through. We’re wasting time.”

“Oh,” Cassana stopped her stool from spinning. “Sorry. Yes, ready.” She looked chagrined, and Vadix wanted to clarify that he wasn’t irritated with her, only frustrated with himself. But given his current track record, he’d probably only botch an explanation and make things worse. Better to cut his losses and press on with the safety lesson.

“Right. Good. What’s rule number one?” he tested.

“Treat every gun like it’s ready to fire,” she replied instantly.

Nodding his approval, Vadix said, “Good. Rule number two: never point the muzzle at anything you’re not willing to destroy.”

Cassana raised her hand, somehow looking polite and sarcastic at the same time.

Breathing deeply, the turian closed his eyes and his head tilted in a circle. _She’s not_ purposely _trying to get a reaction out of me_ , he attempted to convince himself.

When Vadix opened his eyes, the woman was smirking at him. “You know, for not having any close human friends before me, you exhibit some strangely human idiosyncrasies. We roll our eyes, usually out of exasperation, and you just subtly rolled your entire head, I think because I’m annoying you,” she snickered at him.

Mandibles pulled in close to his face, he muttered, “Only because you’re trying to be annoying.”

Now the human rolled her eyes, exaggerating the movement. “Only because you need to lighten up.” She pushed his knee, mimicking his earlier action, but with his elbow planted firmly on the weapons bench, the turian didn’t budge. He only glared at her.

“Did you have a question, Cassana?” he growled.

Pinking in response, she ducked her head. “Um, yes. Will you please clarify where exactly the muzzle is? I just want to be sure I understand perfectly.”

Vadix sighed. _At least her question shows she is taking this seriously, even if her actions don’t always_. Pointing to the end of the Katana’s barrel, he explained, “The muzzle is where the slug comes out. If you’ve never seen a bullet wound, consider yourself lucky. Even the cleanest of shots can wreak havoc on armor and flesh alike. Rule two stems from rule one: if the gun is always loaded, don’t point it at anything you don’t want to shoot. Because if the gun is fired, it may very well destroy whatever is in its path. Does that make sense?”

His companion looked suitably earnest, a somber expression plaguing her usually cheerful features. “I understand. But,” she paused, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. “I’m not sure I’m capable of knowingly ‘destroying’ another living creature. What if, when it comes down to it, I can’t even pull the trigger to protect myself?”


	11. Prepared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.  
> Research Source(s): an article from the website Pew Pew Tactical, “4-firearms-safety-rules”

Since she was fourteen years old, Cassana had dedicated her whole life, her very existence, to putting the needs and well-being of others before her own. She was constantly concerned about healing unseen hurts and helping those who didn’t understand the depth of their own pain. After seeing the ultimate effects of selfishness and addiction in the lives of her parents, even at such a young age, she knew that there was more to life than simply living.

And now, she was presented with being the catalyst in destroying the very life she revered.

Of course she understood that weapons in and of themselves were perfectly harmless. It was only when they were wielded that they became deadly. And whether it was a blade or a bullet, her heart wanted no part in it. Indeed, if it came down to the choice between her or an attacker, Cassana was inclined to think she would sooner die than take the life of another being.

Though that was easy to say now when there was no real threat present.

Even so, she wasn’t sure she could do what Vadix was talking about.

Peering back up at her turian companion, she wondered how to explain herself. He hadn’t spoken since the philosophical question had burst out of her. He only watched her, observing. _If only I knew what he was thinking_ , she worried.

“You probably think I’m absolutely crazy,” she began in earnest.

“On the contrary. I admire you for recognizing the gravity of the decision all marksmen must face,” Vadix countered softly, not meeting her eyes. “In my experience, none of us realize the true cost of pulling that trigger until it’s too late.”

She wanted desperately to ask him about his own experience with the quandary weighing on her mind, but she also wanted to maintain the strides in friendship she’d gained with him. Knowing she was often too curious and pushy for her own good, Cassana remained silent, waiting for him to make a move.

After a long moment, their eyes met again. “Do you want to hear the story of ‘my first kill’?” he asked, seeming to mock himself.

Gingerly she reached out a hand, gripping his talons with her fingers. “Only if you want to tell me,” she responded hesitantly.

One of his mandibles flicked outward, revealing the tip of a single sharp tooth, then quickly returned to rest against his cheek. His brow plates were pulled down, adding a sharp crease between his indigo eyes. “In my eight years as a C-Sec officer, I’ve fired my weapon many times. Most were intended only to frighten subjects into submission, several of which included a flesh wound, something that would heal easily and quickly but serious enough to negate any threat they posed.”

Standing up quickly, Vadix took several steps away from her. With his back to the human, he continued telling the tale. “Twice I’ve taken a shot with the intent to kill. The first was during what seemed at first to be a routine domestic violence dispute. An asari and a drell. It wasn’t the first time officers had visited this couple, and I expected mine wouldn’t be the last duty-call there. The neighbors had called in the tip, reporting yelling and crashing, like usual. But when we arrived, there was no sound. My partner knocked and stated who we were, but we were greeted with silence. No response at all. It was all entirely abnormal.”

At this point, the turian began pacing back and forth in front of her. Cassana thought he was subconsciously trying to escape the past—a state with which she was familiar, in her own way. Yet, he persisted in recounting the memory aloud. “After a short exchange using hand signals, we broke the door down and entered the tiny apartment. In seconds I spotted the drell cowering by the door, while the asari stood across the room, facing the window. She was holding a pistol, finger on the trigger. The drell was whimpering, but still, neither of them said anything. My partner was attending to the victim, in case there were any injuries, so I turned to the armed subject, hoping to placate her.”

Vadix stopped in his tracks, talons on his hips, looking crestfallen. He whispered, “I can’t even remember what she said, what I said. All I know is that when she turned around and raised the gun, time seemed to slow down. My thoughts seemed to fly at the speed of light, yet I couldn’t get a handle on the situation. Was she going to shoot me? My partner? Her partner? Herself? But then I saw her eyes. I still can’t explain why but something in me just knew that something inside her had snapped, and whatever lust that had previously been satiated by simply battering the drell, well, that thirst wasn’t going to be quenched by anything other than lifeblood. And I knew suddenly what my choice was: kill the asari, or let her kill the drell—and potentially harm my partner who was crouched nearby.”

At this, he turned to face his current partner. The agony in his eyes nearly brought Cassana to tears. “I made my decision. Over seven years ago. But I still remember every detail of the aftermath, from the violet blowback against the window to the way she crumpled to the floor, from the heartbroken cry of her partner to the expression on my partners face, torn between gratitude and grief. I can’t say I regret my choice, but I carry the weight of it with me every day.” Moving toward her again, Vadix lightly gripped her shoulders with his talons as he sat down again. “I imagine it could be different for those in the military but taking another’s life is not something you or I will be able to forget. The choice you will be presented with probably won’t be ‘me or them’. It will likely be ‘this person or that person’. And that is a far more difficult decision to make.”

The significance of his words stretched in the silence between them. While she felt certain that she couldn’t strike someone down only to protect herself, the dilemma Vadix presented was an entirely different beast, one Cassana hadn’t yet considered. _But he’s right_ , she thought. _It’s not about me_.

Staring into his eyes as he held her arms, she found no answers, only more questions. Questions about the meaning of life, how to decide whose life was more important, why she should be entrusted with such a monumental judgement.

And behind these impactful issues were concerns about her deepening feelings for this awkward yet surprisingly alluring turian, quickly followed by worries about his unknown feelings for her.

Cassana pushed those thoughts down. They were hardly important at the moment, and not at all important in the grand scheme of things. Besides, she was only here because Commander Shepard had recruited her for some secret mission to help save lives. That was why she’d agreed to this, so that would be her focus throughout training.

She sat up straight, squared her shoulders, and grasped Vadix’s shoulders. Well, she tried to grasp his shoulders but his reach was much longer than hers, so she had to settle for his upper arms. Meeting his gaze with as much resolve as she could, she said, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Vadix. I understand that it was difficult for you and I appreciate your honesty and vulnerability. I also understand that this isn’t something I can come to a conclusion on after a single afternoon, so I’ll keep thinking about it. I know Commander Shepard will be counting on us to protect innocent people and that’s not something I’m going to forget. For now, though, I think it’s best if we return to practical applications. After all, even if I decide to pull that trigger, it won’t do much good if my skill with guns is shit.” She winked at him, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the air.

Her efforts were rewarded with a turian grin, mandibles flared slightly, eyes twinkling as he released her shoulders from his talons. “Agreed,” he rumbled pleasantly. “There are still a couple safety rules we need to cover, and then we’ll have to see what your natural aptitude is like.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” she agreed, smiling at the lighter tone they’d achieved with relative ease.

“First, what were rules one and two?” Vadix grilled her.

“One: treat every weapon like it’s ready to fire. Two: don’t point at anything you wouldn’t shoot,” she reeled off.

Clapping his hands on his knees, the turian nodded. “Excellent. Rule number three is to keep your finger off the trigger until your sights are on the target. This helps avoid accidental discharges. If your finger is on the trigger, you may pull it without meaning to if you’re suddenly startled or even from muscle spasms. This way, even if that were to happen, you won’t accidentally shoot something you don’t intend to destroy.” His words were serious but Vadix grinned again, like he was trying to maintain the good vibes they’d got going.

“Got it,” she nodded. “Treat it like it’s hot, only aim at what you’re willing to shoot, and hands off the trigger until you’re ready to fire.” Understanding how they worked and the respect their users had for them, Cassana was starting to feel more comfortable around the weapons that had haunted her for years.

“Good girl,” Vadix encouraged her. The human was taken aback by the odd phrasing of his praise, but she was also pleased to receive any praise at all. _Maybe it’s a turian thing_ , she hypothesized. He continued, “And the last rule is to be certain of your target, and what’s behind it. Remember: even if you have perfect aim, you still might hit something other than what you’re targeting.”

Smirking, Cassana joked, “And I probably won’t have perfect aim so I better be aware of everything in a ten foot radius of my target.”

“You’re probably right,” Vadix agreed gravely. At this she pouted but he only glared at her. At least she thought he was glaring. It was still a little difficult to read all of his turian expressions. “But let’s put that to the test, shall we?” he suggested, standing from the stool to his full height and picking up the assault rifle on the table. This, along with a detached heat sink, he handed to the stunned human at his side. “Ready?” he challenged her.

She glowered at him, not one to back down from a test. “Very well, but I want to try with Katana,” she allowed, accepting the clip but picking up the shotgun resting on the table. Cassana felt very uncoordinated as she held the weapon in one hand and attempted to insert the thermal clip. Eventually she managed and Vadix, his face unreadable, led her into the firing range section of the training room. Grooves in the ground at uniform intervals announced the distance to the targets. They stopped on the ten-yard line. “Isn’t this really close?” she wondered aloud, making sure to keep the firearm pointed away from her companion.

“Yes,” he answered. “I picked it for two reasons: being this close should help you do better, seeing as you’ve never shot a gun before. But more importantly, because the Commander instructed us to focus on close-range fighting, I suspect we won’t be targeting very distant attackers anyway.” Seeing her irritated expression, Vadix added, “So it’s not all about your ineptitude, you know.”

Cassana sputtered, “Ineptitude!” She stuck her tongue out at him, admittedly acting like a child but his matter-of-fact insult stung—even if it was true.

The turian’s brow plates drew together in confusion and his mandibles hung loose as he stared at her unexpected facial expression. Then, tilting his head, he imitated her, his own blue forked tongue peeking out of his mouth for a moment.

A girly giggle escaped her, despite any determination to be annoyed with him. The overall effect of his impersonation was just too comical to ignore. “That was cute,” she teased.

His tongue flicked back behind his mandibles. “What was that anyway?” he asked, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I’ve never seen anyone, of any species, do that.”

“Well I can’t speak for any race other than humans but sticking your tongue out at someone is the epitome of a childhood comeback. When you don’t have a solid retort, it’s a good response to fall back on. But it’s not something adults do,” she explained.

Again, he looked perplexed. “But you’re an adult?” he questioned, seeming suddenly unsure about that fact.

Laughing, the human agreed. “Yes, yes I am. Have been for eight years now. But you seem to bring out the worst in me,” she mocked.

“So,” Vadix thought aloud. “Being childlike is a bad thing?”

She shook her head now. “No, not necessarily.” His misunderstanding was entirely her fault, but Cassana couldn’t bring herself to correct him yet. She was having far too much fun at his expense.

The confusion evident on his face grew more pronounced. “I do not understand at all.” Vadix tapped a talon against his chin, pondering. Then his gaze slid over, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. “But I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me. On purpose.”

Raising her empty hand in surrender, she admitted, “You got me. I am totally messing with you right now.”

He elbowed her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. “If you weren’t holding a weapon right now, I’d put you in a headlock,” he muttered.

“Ouch,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “That hurt. Remember I’m a lot softer than you,” she pouted.

“Yeah, physically,” he scoffed. “But you’re definitely the one with a sharper tongue.”

Turning to look up at him, Vadix was smiling widely. She grinned in return. “You’re getting better at this banter thing, you know,” she complimented him.

He blinked once, nodding. “Huh. I suppose you’re right. Who would’ve thought,” he trailed off, eyes wandering away with his thoughts. “Back to important matters,” he said suddenly. “Let’s see how much work we’ve got before we make you a superb markswoman.”


	12. Fired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

At Vadix’s instruction, Cass faced downrange, feeling nervous and slightly queasy. She knew she had nothing to fear from the weapon itself, but she was still uncertain about actually firing it. After all, while it wasn’t inherently harmful without someone to direct it, it also couldn’t be used in an inherently helpful way.

_But_ , she reminded herself, _I admire Commander Shepard for all the heroic things she’s done, and she regularly uses firearms. So they can’t be entirely bad_. And at least for now, Cass wasn’t at risk of actually hurting anyone. Unless she really fucked up and somehow managed to shoot Vadix.

That was a sobering thought.

“Remember your safety rules,” the turian reminded her.

She nodded and replied, “Treat every weapon like it’s loaded, only point the muzzle at intended targets, keep my finger off the trigger until I’m actually going to pull it, and be aware of what’s behind—and around—my target.” Peeking at him, she saw his nod of approval.

“Right. Now take your stance, but don’t shoot.”

Complying with his instructions, she held up the shotgun, resting the end in the dip where her clavicle met her shoulder. She held on tightly to the grip with one hand, while holding the other under the body of it, closer to the muzzle.

“Well you’ve got a decent grip on it, but remember what I taught you about planting your feet in hand-to-hand combat?” Vadix asked her, moving to stand behind her. “The gun obviously isn’t going to fight you, but it will have some kickback when you fire. Because of that force, it’ll help if you intentionally place your feet, about shoulder-width apart. It’ll ground you, so the backwards impact doesn’t put you on your ass,” he explained.

_That makes sense_ , she realized as she moved her feet to a wider stance. She hadn’t given much thought to it, but if the gun used a tiny mass accelerator to speed up the particles used as bullets, it would have to give off a decent amount of force to balance out the reaction.

“Much better,” the turian approved. “Now, this particular Katana doesn’t have a scope or anything so you’ll have to use the generic sights. Along the top barrel, there will be two perpendicular ridges with a little cut out in the middle. Line up those two spaces to aim,” he directed.

Lifting the front end of the weapon higher until it was approximately level with the floor, Cass squinted, trying to identify the sights. “Okay,” she murmured hesitantly. “So, when those are lined up, the bullet is going to hit just beneath what I can see?”

“Not quite. That notch is effectively your target zone. So whatever you’re looking at there is what you’ll hit. Well, ideally, anyway. Assuming you don’t twitch at the last second,” he asserted. Frowning, Cass knew Vadix wasn’t trying to sound condescending—well, he probably wasn’t doing it on purpose—but his statement still pricked her pride.

“Got it,” she muttered, trying to hide her disdain.

She heard him take a couple steps behind her, then Vadix said, “Alright, whenever you’re ready, take your shot.”

Taking a deep breath, she peered down the length of the barrel and lined up the two cuts in the metal. Trying to hold the gun steady, Cass aimed at the center of the black and red concentric circles, mere yards away. Then, breathing once more to steady herself, she squeezed the trigger.

The gun rocked back into her body, and she felt sure it was going to leave a bruise. Immediately, the nose jerked toward the ceiling as she absorbed the shockwave, nearly falling off her feet. “Shit!” she exclaimed.

Cass felt talons on her shoulder blades, steadying her, then heard Vadix ask from above, “Are you alright?”

Tipping the gun toward the ground before she turned to face him, she answered, “Fine, yeah, I think. I mean, with your speech about my stance I thought I had prepared myself for the kickback but that was completely beyond what I was expecting!” She tentatively rubbed the sore spot on her shoulder. It was definitely tender. “I think I’m gonna have a bruise in the shape of a butt.”

His mandibles twitched in what she thought was humor. “Remember to keep your finger off the trigger,” he reminded her, pointing toward her grip.

“Shit!” Moving her finger away, she wasn’t sure what to do with it—she had to keep a grip on the gun somehow but it felt so awkward to hold her finger up off of it.

Vadix laid his talons on her hand as he explained, “Just rest it flat against the trigger guard, like that.”

“Oh, thanks,” she murmured, looking down at their entwined hands. Suddenly she felt like a juvenile in secondary school again, when the accidental brush of fingers in the hallway was enough to give her butterflies.

Shaking her head, Cass took a tiny step backward, away from what seemed like an impossible attraction. Unexpectedly, she felt the terror of that night creeping in quickly. True, no weapons had been fired, but the faces she’d seen in the dim light, ranging from grim to sadistic, still haunted her. Even then, at fourteen years old, she’d known that they would have no problem following up on their threats if her mother didn’t go quietly. “Um, should I try again?” she offered, hoping to break free from the awkward moment created by the abyss of her memories.

The turian nodded and stepped back again, folding his arms. Any trace of amusement, real or imagined, had been replaced with mild professional interest. Already she missed his alien laughter. It was like a balm to her complaining nerves.

She turned around, once again facing down range, feeling slightly woozy. Lifting the shotgun back up, she pressed it against her shoulder and winced, but said nothing, determined to overcome the pain, both emotional and physical. Cass aligned the sights and took aim at the target, then took a deep, steadying breath, and pulled the trigger.

Having experienced it once already, she was more prepared for the pain. It hurt more the second time, but she merely grunted in response. Her feet remained exactly where she’d planted them and she was able to keep the gun fairly level with the ground, instead of the flailing it had felt like before.

“Good,” she heard from several feet behind her. “Now re-engage the safety and remove the heat sink. We’ll go take a look at the target to see how you did.”

Cass fumbled with the safety mechanism but after a moment managed to slide it into place. After pulling off the thermal clip, she placed it and the Katana back on the weapons bench behind them. Returning to where Vadix waited near the 10 yard line, they moved in silence toward the end of the range.

Right away she noticed neither of her shots had been anywhere near the center. One, likely the first, had flown wide, missing the outermost edge of the circle by nearly a foot. The second had almost made it into the second-widest colored ring. Cass felt herself coloring with embarrassment.

“Not too shabby,” Vadix said, surprising her. She looked up at him, eyes wide. He was doing that turian grin again. _He’s so handsome when he smiles_ , she admired. “This one,” he said, pointing to the outermost hole, “is what I was expecting. Only for both shots. This one,” he pointed to the other, “is actually really good for having no practice with firearms. Maybe we’ll make an assassin out of you yet.”

She tried to laugh at his joke, but the thought of killing someone made her nauseous. “I wouldn’t go quite that far,” she managed, feeling uneasy. Watching the target she’d just shot, the red seemed to fade to a strange grey color.

His smirk disappeared as he reached out to her. Lightly resting his talons on her shoulder, Vadix asked, “Are you alright, Cassana?” She watched his brow plates rise as he towered over her, leaning in. She focused on his mandibles, pulled in tight against his face, as his talons moved to rest against her neck while the other hand gripped her waist. “You look…” he flailed for words, concern etched in his eyes.

“Faint,” she offered.

Just before she passed out.

#

Vadix held the limp human’s frame, absolutely uncertain of what to do. Cassana had fallen forward onto him and her close proximity made him feel uncomfortable, but that was better than her falling backward and getting hurt, he supposed.

As gently as he could, the turian lowered them to the ground, rearranging her fleshy limbs into what he hoped was a more comfortable position. He managed to get his partner into a relatively seated position in front of him, leaning back against his raised knee, with her own knees bent slightly where they rested against his outstretched leg. One of her arms folded across her abdomen while the other stretched out, her wrist resting on the ground.

Trying to remember the basic first aid he had reviewed every year since graduating from the academy, he thought to check for a pulse. But where? If she were a turian he knew he’d be able to feel it in the dip of her neck, but did that hold true for humans?

Suddenly his mind flashed back to earlier that morning— _was it only that morning?_ —when he’d made some bumbling attempt at flirtation and managed to slice her shirt open by mixing up the location of the human heart. _Human hearts, left side of the body_ , he remembered Cassana saying.

Tenderly he placed his palm on her chest. _Spirits, please don’t be dead_ , he begged internally.

A faint but regular _thump-thump_ greeted him, and Vadix breathed a sigh of relief. A heartbeat at least meant she was still alive, but that didn’t provide much clarification about what the problem actually was.

Her eyes were closed and she was breathing, but other than that she was effectively comatose. _Did humans go into a coma for no reason?_

What’s a turian to do?

But then she was blinking blearily up at him. “Spirits, you’re alright,” he exhaled heavily.

“Ugh, I must’ve passed out,” Cassana moaned. She closed her eyes again, rubbing her forehead. “Thanks for catching me,” she said before Vadix could get too worried about her slipping into a pseudo-coma once more.

“Is it normal for humans to ‘pass out’?” Vadix asked in wonder.

Opening her eyes again, she managed a chuckle, “Not necessarily. Some people do from medical conditions, but I don’t think I’ve ever fainted before. Not sure what brought it on though,” she trailed off.

He clicked his mandibles, thinking. “How are you feeling now?”

The human seemed to take mental stock of her current situation. “Still a bit weak,” she admitted. “But my head feels clear at least, so I don’t think I’ll pass out again.” Cassana turned her head to look up at him.

The black centers of her stormy eyes were wider than he’d ever seen. The change in size threw him off balance mentally, and he wondered again at this alien phenomenon. It was like looking into a sun made of shadows, dark yet enticing.

“Oh, Vadix,” she exclaimed suddenly. “I just realized—I mean, you must be uncomfortable. I can move.” She started to shift away from him.

He stopped her escape easily. “Cassana, I may not be a doctor but I think you better wait until you get your strength back,” he warned, subvocals flanging in agreement. Although what the turian said was true, it wasn’t the whole truth: he just wasn’t ready to let her out of his arms just yet.

She stared at him in response, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Very well,” she conceded before snuggling down into his armor as best she could, eyes closing in contentment. “Will you tell me a story then?”

“I already told you a story,” he retorted, hoping to avoid any more somber memories.

She peeked up at him through one dusky eye. “I’m the invalid here, aren’t I? That means you have to do what I want.” She _humphed_ at him in a mocking dictatorial tone as she shut her eyelid again.

Pausing a moment before responding, Vadix gazed down at the woman in front of him. From fiery to frail and back again in what felt like the blink of an eye. _Spirits, I can’t deny her something so simple_ , he thought, reflecting. _Dammit_.

“Very well, if you insist,” he surrendered. “What would you like to know?”

He knew he was going to regret this later, but right now he could only think about how pleasant it was to see her smile so easily.

“Tell me about your mom.”

The gentle command took him by surprise, and he waffled in his response: he had never told anyone about his mother. She was the most important person in his life, and the one who knew him best in this galaxy. Could he really let someone else in on that relationship?

But then he saw the utter innocence, the genuine interest, in Cassana’s face and Vadix realized that, somehow, he not only trusted this red-haired human, but he _wanted_ to confide in her.

Taking a deep breath to settle his nerves, the turian began, “Her name is Trebaana Ramraka, and she’s the most serene, kind-hearted being I know.”


	13. Defended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

“To understand why I say that, you need to know the whole story,” Vadix paused, breathing deeply as he began. This was a story he’d never shared with anyone, one he had never even considered revealing. It was difficult to find the words, but he knew Cassana had to know about his less than ideal circumstances in order to comprehend the magnitude of his mother’s charity.

He continued, “My parents found me abandoned on their doorstep over 20 years ago, with nothing but a blanket and a note. ‘Vadix’ was the only thing written on it. And as far as I know, they never did figure out who left me there.” Stopping to try and contain the disgust he could hear in his own voice, the human reached out a hand, placing it on his shoulder. Vadix glanced down at her and the compassion in her eyes made him cringe. Quickly he turned away.

“Hey,” she implored, moving her palm to rest on his cheek, softly forcing him to look at her. “There’s a difference between pity and sympathy, you know. Very few people want to be pitied, but it’s easy to mistake the latter for the former.”

Staring at her in dismay, the turian wondered, _How does she know I struggle with that?_

Before he could ask his unspoken question, Cassana lightly tapped his face with her hand. “Your story first, no exceptions,” she demanded before settling back down into the crook of his knee.

“So bossy,” he murmured, but Vadix couldn’t seem to muster up any real animosity as he pressed on with the story. “Well, as it happened Trebaana was desperate for a child after years of expensive treatments and untested procedures that still hadn’t given her what she wanted most. Of course, I can’t remember any of this but, when they opened the door, she immediately wanted to adopt me. My father, while he did want her to be happy, knew that despite the unique situation they still had to go through the proper channels, to prevent any future issues that might void my adoption. They alerted C-Sec who conducted a full investigation, but ultimately no one came forward to claim me. It seemed I was well and truly an orphan.”

Vadix stopped again, almost overwhelmed by the sense of abandonment which he knew he had no right to feel. His parents meant everything to him, and they had given him everything. He shouldn’t want more.

But he did.

Clearing his throat, the turian started speaking again. “With no one to counter their application, the adoption went through quickly and they began to raise me as their own. When I turned eight, they told me how they found me. My peers were starting to get their colony tattoos and as difficult as it was, Trebaana knew I had to know the truth. Otherwise I might end up resenting her, and that’s something she couldn’t bear. Something she can’t bear,” he trailed off.

Cassana hummed, a question clearly on her mind. “I feel bad that I don’t understand,” she explained, sounding remorseful. “But I haven’t spent much time with turians. Can you enlighten me as to the significance of the face tattoos?”

It wasn’t a topic he liked to broach, but at least the human wasn’t going to judge him for being barefaced—her entire species was barefaced. “No one really knows how they started anymore,” Vadix clarified. “But at some point they must’ve been unique to different tribes. The different markings are used to denote a turian’s colony of origin. And even though the meaning of the different patterns or colors isn’t known, not having tattoos is looked down upon in our society. The term ‘barefaced’ usually refers to someone who isn’t to be trusted.”

“Oh,” she murmured, looking downcast. “That’s why you haven’t had many friends.”

Chuckling morbidly, Vadix corrected her. “No, that’s why I haven’t had _any_ friends.” He knew that self-deprecation wasn’t great humor, but in this case, it was only the truth.

Cassana looked up into his face, her eyes boring into his. “But,” she began softly. “How could they not see how trustworthy you are?”

His subvocals purred faintly but the turian shrugged his shoulders awkwardly, looking away from her intense gaze. “People don’t usually look beneath the surface before drawing conclusions,” he muttered.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her sink down into herself, now staring at her hands in her lap. “Believe me, I know that all too well,” she murmured.

Turning to face her again, Vadix said with interest, “You still haven’t told me your story.”

The human raised an eyebrow as she met his curious look. “You still haven’t finished yours,” she countered.

“Fine,” he conceded, raising his hands in surrender. “I suppose I haven’t explained why I never got my face tattooed.”

She dipped her head, encouraging him to continue. Her smile was infectious, and Vadix nearly forgot how unpleasant it was to talk about this, and how strange it was to be having this conversation while seated on the floor of a C-Sec training room.

“It’s difficult for me to explain. See, if I chose to take on either of my adoptive parents’ markings, it would feel almost disrespectful to my biological parents. Even though I don’t even know who they are, I still feel like I owe them something. They did bring me into this galaxy after all. But because I haven’t gotten any tattoos, outwardly it’s like I’m actively disrespecting my adoptive parents.” He sighed, the inner dilemma that constantly plagued him rolling around in his mind. “I’ve spoken at length to my mother and father about it, and I know that they understand logically. But I can tell that it still hurts them emotionally, though they would never admit it to me.”

As he finished speaking, Cassana was nodding. “I think that makes sense,” she thought aloud. “While I don’t actually know how you feel, I can understand where you’re coming from. I think it’s similar to how I feel about my parents. Part of me loves them because they’re my mom and dad, but part of me hates them because of what they’ve put me through.” She closed her eyes, grimacing.

Feeling unsure but wanting to express some semblance of condolences, Vadix reached out his talons to rest just above her knee. He dipped his head as he squeezed her leg gingerly, “We’re kind of messed up, aren’t we?”

A half smile twitched across her lips just before she looked up at him. “In my experience, we’re all a little broken, one way or another. What really matters is what we do—whether it’s because of our issues or in spite of them.”

#

The turian in front of her wasn’t responding and Cass worried she’d upset him somehow. She watched his mandibles shift in and out as he stared unseeing at her.

Slowly he began to nod. “I think I see what you mean,” he said haltingly. “We better call it a day. It’s past dinnertime.”

“Oh, okay,” she agreed, feeling like they’d just done a 180. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She scrambled up, brushing herself off.

Vadix also stood and walked toward the weapons bench, putting the firearms back in the locker. He seemed to move almost mechanically, and Cass sensed he was deep in thought. Not wanting to disturb him, she slowly gathered the boxing gloves and placed them carefully in their bins, even going so far as to organize each container. She knew she was stalling but didn’t want to leave him just yet.

The human jumped, startled, when she heard him clear his throat from right behind her. As she turned around, the words rushed out of him. “Can I walk you home?”

Cass felt her mouth drop open. “Where is this chivalry coming from?” The incredulous thought was out in the open before she could stop it. Her tone was far more cutting than she’d intended.

And Vadix noticed. He took an involuntary step back before responding, “Well, I—er,” he stuttered. “I should’ve offered yesterday but I, uh, well it slipped my mind,” the turian ended lamely. “If you’re sick of me though, I understand. But my mother raised me to be courteous and I had to offer.” This time he ended on a more certain note, and Cass recognized his sincere desire to make his parents proud.

Smiling, she closed her gaping mouth and, deciding to go for it, asked, “Do you want to grab some dinner with me?”

He cocked his head before answering, an unconscious motion she was starting to associate with him feeling uncomfortably uncertain. “Uh, sure. I’ve never spent time with colleagues outside of work though so I’m not sure what exactly to do,” he trailed off.

Cass snorted then replied with a wink, “Just eat some food, chat a little, and do some listening. Don’t worry. Your first time out I won’t take you anywhere crazy.”

#

The pair quickly finished cleaning up and headed out of the training room. Vadix paused to ensure the door locked behind them when an icy tone froze him to the spot from a few feet away.

“We wondered how long you’d play hooky, Ramraka.”

His human companion twisted around at the unfamiliar voice and he willed her not to get involved. It would only get messy.

Messier than it was already going to be.

Vadix turned to face his ex-partner. “Octaril,” he said without emotion.

The red turian lifted his head in disgust, mandibles raised and parted slightly. “That’s Officer Octaril to you, you barefaced bastard.”

He felt the smooth hand on his arm and groaned inwardly just before Cassana spoke. “Excuse me, but who are you?” she asked the stranger, sounding more authoritative than he felt.

Opening his eyes, Vadix watched Octaril’s gaze rove up and down the human’s body as his offended expression morphed into one of fascination. “A civilian,” he droned, feigning indifference. “You know that’s against policy. Though how you managed to get laid by a pretty thing like her is beyond me.”

Torn between outrage on behalf of his new friend and dread at the thought of unleashing his anger, Vadix felt rooted to the floor.

To his surprise, Cassana swiftly glided forward toward the man who had spoken about her in such crude terms. “Oh officer!” she exclaimed, the pitch of her voice sounding…odd. “I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding. What’s your name?”

“Officer Siter Octaril, at your service.” The two-faced jerk had the audacity to bow, offering his talon to her.

Then she reached him, and the human grabbed his outstretched hand and yanked him forward to meet his groin with her knee.

He whimpered in pain as he dropped to the floor, clutching at his hidden genitals. Vadix subconsciously winced in sympathy, knowing that although their carapaces were considerably more sturdy than human flesh, their lower plates were particularly susceptible to impact force.

Cassana knelt and whispered something to the red turian before whipping around and stalking back. When she approached her partner, the human grabbed him by the forearm and continued out the back entrance, pulling Vadix behind her with a viselike grip.

Finally they reached the first elevator and she released him. Rubbing his wrist, he asked in dismay, “What was that about?”

“No one insults my friends like that,” she stated through gritted teeth.

Looking sideways at her, Vadix murmured, “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

She chuckled at that, glancing up at him. “You’d do well to remember what I’m capable of. Or you’ll never see it coming,” Cassana winked. “Now, I don’t know about you, but that exchange has worked up my appetite. I’m starving!”

Soon they were seated at a tiny table in a small restaurant called the Whispering Fete Pub. The turian couldn’t stop swiveling his head. The low lighting made it difficult to see everything, but there didn’t seem to be any sort of theme throughout the room. “What does ‘fete’ mean, anyway?” he wondered aloud.

“I thought the same thing. It’s a bit of a strange place, but they’ve got great levo food and I’ve heard rumors the dextro options are pretty decent too,” Cassana said absentmindedly as she perused the menu. “Every time I come I order something different,” she explained.

“And how often is that?” It felt like every ten minutes he learned something new about her—it was hard to keep up.

“Oh, not that much,” she murmured. “I only discovered the place a few months ago. A client brought me here and I’ve loved the vibe ever since.”

Vadix tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. But he was also nervous about her answer. “And what kind of client would that be?”

She paused her perusal to glance up at him, rolling her eyes. “Have you decided what you want? No more Q&A until we’ve ordered,” she commanded.

He rolled his head now, mimicking her behavior. “Fine,” he said with an exaggerated pout.

After a human man took their order and their menus, Cassana folded her arms flat on the table and leaned forward. “Alright. You can have the first question.”

“The first question? What do you mean?” Vadix was really struggling to keep up with her verbal pace. He blamed it on all the years of solitude.

One side of her lips tilted up and she made a strange clicking noise. “Sorry, that was two, but I suppose I’ll let it slide since they were basically the same one. To answer, we both want to know things about each other so it’s only fair if we take turns.” She grinned wide, “And now it’s my turn: have you ever left the Citadel?”

Blinking slowly, he processed what she was saying. “Uh, yes?” It came out as a question, and he watched her raise a single brow in response. But then everything clicked and he shook his head in fake mockery. “Nope. I answered your question. No extra answers,” he declared. “What did you tell Octaril just now, after you brought him to his knees? Which, by the way, was priceless. Even if I have to pay for it later.”

Her brow furrowed in response. “Why would you pay for it?”

“You’re really bad at this you know,” Vadix teased. “You have to answer my question first.”

Cassana scowled at him but yielded. “I told him you’re twice the man he is. Why would you pay for it?”

The turian’s mandibles parted in confusion. _Why would she ask that?_ he pondered. But he answered her question. “Well, Siter isn’t the type to forget an insult. We were partners before I left C-Sec to join Shepard’s crew and I didn’t really give them any notice. So he’s probably already peeved about me leaving him hanging like that, and then to be taken out by a human? Who was defending me, the ‘barefaced bastard’? Yeah, not good for his image. And since I don’t have any allies at work, I’m an easy target,” he spat the last sentence.

Reaching across the table, Cassana laid a soft hand on his clenched talons. “That may have been true before,” she began. “But now you do have an ally: you have me.”


	14. Played

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

She felt his talons clench beneath her hand before he withdrew his arm. _Maybe he doesn’t like to be touched_ , Cass thought. _Wouldn’t be the first person I’ve met like that_.

 _Or maybe he just doesn’t like me_ , she worried internally.

“Er, thanks,” he grunted. The turian’s voice sounded more gravelly than normal and he cocked his head. _Shit_ , she cursed herself. She’d made him uncomfortable again.

An awkward moment began to stretch between them, outlined by the sounds of simply living. As the day came to a close and the night opened its bleary eyes, Cass thought this was when the Citadel truly came to life. The diversity of its people was more apparent and their differences seemed to fade into the background as they all embraced the things they all had in common, most often the desire to break free of inhibitions, whatever size, shape, or color those reservations may be.

Her companion’s words brought her out of a reverie. “Have you ever left the Citadel?” Vadix asked, his voice somehow sounding too loud and yet so soft, suspended in the air.

Shaking her head, Cass replied, “No, never. I want to though. Just never had the time or the means.” She tried to smile, but she knew it didn’t reach her eyes. Then she saw him seeing her face—she couldn’t bear for him to pity her so she asked the first question that came to mind, “What’s your favorite color?”

Vadix’ brow plates drew together and his mandibles drew in closer to his face. It seemed like he was frowning. “What do you mean?” He sounded even more perplexed than he looked.

The human folded her arms and leaned back in her seat, peering at him in concentration. Vadix shifted in his seat, glancing down at his lap then back into her eyes before casting his gaze around. She knew she was making him excessively uncomfortable, but she needed answers. And not just about his favorite things.

“I just can’t figure you out,” Cass finally sighed as she rested her elbows on the table, palms steepled below her chin. “And see, that’s not normal for me. I’m sort of a people expert, remember? Now, I will be the first to admit that turians aren’t as easy to read as humans or asari, and sometimes even salarians, but you’re more difficult than most.”

He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, his mouth parted, so she stopped to let him speak.

Except Vadix only continued to stare blankly at her.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she prompted, “You wanted to say something?”

He cleared his throat, looking away again, “Well, yes, but it’s not technically my turn since I never actually answered your question.”

Cass scoffed lightly and his dark eyes darted back to her face. The emotions under his surface gave her pause, stopping her teasing if potentially cutting remark in its tracks.

Suddenly she remembered what he’d said only minutes before: _I don’t have any allies_.

Another comment came to mind: _I don’t have_ any _friends_ , he’d stated emphatically.

Finally, the pieces clicked together and she knew what he needed.

Smiling brightly at her turian, Cass offered, “That’s okay; it’s not a hard rule. You go. Ask away.”

One eye narrowed as he slowly turned his head. “This feels like a trick,” he murmured suspiciously.

The human tried to hide her grin but couldn’t help it.

“See!” he exclaimed, pointing a single very sharp-looking talon at her. “You’re doing that thing again, where you say one thing but mean something else entirely!” His accusing glare made her giggle.

Cass tried to compress her lips into a non-mocking expression. This would never work if he thought she was out to get him all the time. “Vadix,” she huffed, failing to keep all teasing tones out of her communication.

After glancing away for a moment, pretending to be exasperated, she looked back at him and gave him a softer smile. “I promise you, you can ask me anything you want to know. That’s how friendship is supposed to work. And I understand that you don’t have a lot of first-hand experience in this regard, but I do,” she continued, hoping her imploring attitude was helping and not hindering things, wishing she could just reassure him with her touch. “That’s actually exactly what I do for people. And that’s what I’d like to do for you. If you’ll let me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, hoping she looked contrite and harmless. Until now, Cass hadn’t realized just how much she wanted him to trust her, to let her into his life. They’d shared a good moment—excellent really, she thought—when he’d opened up about his mom, but rather than sating her the experience had only served to make her greedy.

That little taste of turian was all it took, and she was hooked.

But he didn’t need to know she was nursing a budding addiction. All Vadix needed was a friend.

And she could be that for him.

Even if that was all it was.

The seconds seemed to drag on until finally he met her gaze again. Mandibles fluttering slightly, he parted his mouth to speak.

Her own mouth parted in anticipation.

“Okay. I’d like that,” he agreed. The words seemed to hum, nearly lifelike in their almost three-dimensional quality. “Friends.”

#

It was his first time “out”—that was what it was called, right?—and Vadix was certain he’d botched it before they’d even ordered.

First, he couldn’t seem to follow what his new partner was saying. Sure, he understood the meaning of her words, and his translator seemed to be working just fine. But he had a feeling she was communicating beyond mere words. And dunce that he was, he had no idea what she was trying to tell him.

Then, that awful question “game” she’d started and he’d ended. No, he hadn’t just ended it. That was inaccurate. Vadix had masterfully, devastatingly, well and truly fucked it up.

Like he always seemed to do.

But somehow, she’d managed to forgive him and even offered to be his friend. That was unexpected.

Unexpectedly pleasant too.

The turian wondered if everyone felt like this when they became friends with someone. Was it always so exhilarating? And terrifying?

It took him longer than it should have for him to notice her fingers tapping his forearm. A soft grin rested across her lips and her eyes sparked. “You were saying?” Cassana prompted.

“Right,” he huffed. Feeling nervous, he didn’t know how to begin. “Um, well, I guess I was curious about your ‘clients’…” The human’s face darkened momentarily and he changed course, fearing he would push her away just when he was starting to make some progress. “How many turians have you helped?”

“Oh!” Her mouth matched her quiet exclamation before taking on a thoughtful tilt. “Well, since I started keeping track, I’d say only half a dozen or so. But I’ve been trying to help people for longer than I thought of it as my own personal brand of free consulting.”

Vadix pondered this then asked, “And how do you select new clients? Are you into marketing at all?”

Giggling, she shook her head. “No, though that would be interesting. I just approach people that I think I could help, whenever I can.”

“But that just sounds like service, which is commendable. So why do you call them ‘clients’ instead of ‘friends’?” He felt confused, like she was withholding a crucial piece of the puzzle.

His bewilderment must’ve been apparent on his face. “I realize it doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Cassana admitted. “I’m just worried that if I tell you everything, you won’t want anything to do with me anymore.” She looked away, shoulders hunched and suddenly appearing fragile and small.

The turian sat back in his chair, utterly mystified. “But you’re…” he trailed off, unable to find a word that would accurately and adequately sum up his feelings. Finally he settled on, “But you’re a good person.” Internally he cringed—it had sounded a lot better in his head. Out loud, he knew it sounded lame.

Peeking up at him from beneath short black fringe, she gave him a quaint smile, her lips hiding a secret.

“What?” Vadix asked, nearly dumbstruck. He’d spent years now working with humans but this one continued to surprise him with her expressions, both physical and verbal.

She glanced away again, still trying to cover her sneaking grin, “Oh, nothing.”

Frowning, he tried probing again, “But you said you’d answer my questions. Are there certain topics that are off limits?” He knew he sounded like a juvenile, but Vadix really didn’t know how to navigate positive relationships beyond the one he had with his parents.

“You’re funny, you know?” she teased, finally looking him square in the eye.

 _She still didn’t answer_ , he mused. Despite his curiosity, Vadix resolved, _Perhaps it’s best if I avoid asking about her consulting work_. More than anything, he did not want to push her away with his blundering conversation.

At least he wasn’t shit in the training room.

Saved for the moment from yet more awkward dialogue, their waiter arrived with food. Vadix dug in with enthusiasm—genuinely surprised by the flavors, given that he’d been too distracted by his companion to read and ordered the first edible thing he saw on the menu. He did try to remember the manners his mother had taught him, but he also tried to keep Cassana talking so that he wouldn’t have to flounder again.

Over the course of the meal, they discussed training plans for the next few days. The human mentioned wanting to practice more at the firing range, and she tried asking him for more details about the various weapons available for use. After as brief an answer as possible, Vadix encouraged his new friend to tell him more about human facial expressions and how they indicated to different emotions. Cassana launched into a lecture on what she called “micro-expressions”. He thought it was fascinating, but likely due more to the micro-expressions she wore than the ones she explained.

Soon enough they’d finished eating and paid for the check—the turian, who managed to pay for both of them before the human could even protest, mentally congratulated himself for his speed. Then, continuing his pattern of chivalry, Vadix began to walk Cassana home.

“You really don’t have to do this,” she said again, gesturing at their moving feet while watching his face.

He reached out to her, gingerly placing a talon on her shoulder. “Please, I want to,” he assured her.

“Well, if you insist,” she muttered, but she sounded pleased even as she looked back at the ground.

Neither of them spoke.

Vadix noticed he was still touching her.

He probably should’ve dropped his arm already. Was this normal? Was this weird?

It felt weird.

But now it had gone on so long it felt weird to stop.

 _Spirits_ , he mentally chastised himself. _She’s going to think you’re socially incompetent_.

Which, the turian realized, was technically true.

He wanted to claw his own eyes out, but that didn’t seem like a good reason to let go of her.

“You know,” her voice brought him back to the present. “You continue to surprise me, Vadix.”

Glancing down into her face, he saw no mockery or disdain. In fact, she seemed… almost happy about it. This surprised him. “Is that a good thing?” Vadix wondered aloud.

She made one of those snorting laugh sounds, “In this case, yes. If you ask me, not all surprises are good. But you?” Cassana paused, a smile stretching across her lips. “Definitely a good one.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster in response.

Several more steps passed in silence.

“Don’t you want to know why?” she prodded him, with an accompanying elbow to the waist.

Vadix gasped.

Not from pain, she hadn’t used enough force for that.

But from arousal.

No one ever touched him there.

It just wasn’t done among platonic turians.

Unless…

Was Cassana flirting with him?

 _Don’t be ridiculous_ , he stammered internally, his thoughts not quite coherent. It was only because his waist was about level with her arm.

Shaking his head, he managed to respond, “Um, sorry, what?”

“Well, don’t you want to know how you surprised me?” She stopped then in front of a battered looking door.

Vadix was still trying to catch up with her side of the conversation. “Oh, uh, sure.” He was a literal poet.

A peculiar expression took over her face. “You walked me home, like a perfect gentleman, yet the whole time you held onto my shoulder, like a possessive pimp.” Pausing long enough for his heart to skip a couple beats as he grasped what she was saying, the human finished, “And I’m not sure which version of you I’d prefer.”

Then she stood on her toes and, resting one hand on his chest, she pressed her lips to his mandible.

“Night. See you tomorrow,” she murmured.

He caught the barest glimpse of pink-tinged cheeks before she closed the door in front of his dumbfounded face.


	15. Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

His parents were either asleep or away when Vadix arrived home, after he’d gotten lost—twice—on the streets he knew like the inner workings of his handgun.

It felt like he’d been tased.

And he wasn’t sure what was more shocking: what she’d said or what she’d done.

After a fitful night’s sleep, as he wouldn’t call it ‘rest’ exactly, the turian awoke with a renewed determination to improve his social skills. Although he’d known for years that he wasn’t good with people, until now he’d never wanted to be.

While he got ready for the day, Vadix made a mental list of the things he needed to learn vs. the things he already knew. The latter list was far shorter than the former.

But how to navigate this uncharted space?

As soon as he’d asked himself the question, he knew the answer. It was the answer he always came back to when he was unsure of himself.

Trebaana smiled softly at her son as he entered the kitchen, her mandibles spreading slightly from her face. “Vadix, you were home later than normal last night. Is everything alright?”

He took a seat next to her at the counter. “Yes, though I suppose I should tell you about some recent developments in my life,” he mumbled, feeling suddenly guilty for keeping the truth from his parents.

“Oh?” she exclaimed, surprise evident in her raised brow plates and widened mandibles.

Wringing his talons together, the words seemed to escape all at once, “I left my job at C-Sec to join the human Spectre after she recruited me for a mission and now I have a human partner I’m training who is also training me.”

Well. That hadn’t been so difficult. One sentence just about covered it.

Other than his growing fascination with said human partner.

He glanced at his mother, who gave him a knowing look. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

_Spirits, how does she always know?_

Clearing his throat, Vadix continued, “Er, well, yes, I suppose there is more to it. But wait, you’re not upset?” That was the only reason he’d waited so long to tell her. After all, his father had been the main reason he’d been able to get on at C-Sec and this felt almost like a betrayal of that gifted opportunity.

The older and much wiser turian turned to face him, resting her talons on her son’s shoulders. “No, of course I’m not upset. I only want you to be happy with who you are. Underneath the worry in your words, I heard ambition and pride in what you’re doing now. You’ve never spoken about your work like that before.” Trebaana dipped her head toward the younger turian, encouraging him to keep speaking.

Vadix took a moment to gather his thoughts and emotions. He still couldn’t quite believe how well his sudden career-change was being received. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice gravelly and subvocals purring. He cleared his throat, not keen to dwell on emotions. “The other thing is that I think I’m—wait, you must promise you won’t tell Father!”

Dartius Ramraka was many things, and his son was not entirely sure that xenophobe wasn’t on the list.

His mother chuckled and agreed, “Very well. Now tell me what else is going on.”

While most men probably would’ve felt uncomfortable sharing this kind of candor with their mothers, particularly when it came to matters of the heart, yet it was the easiest thing in the galaxy for Vadix. She was the one who knew him best, probably even better than he knew himself.

Confiding in her would be freeing.

He took a deep breath and continued his previous thought in a self-conscious whisper, “I think I’m attracted to this human.”

Frowning, the red turian questioned, “The Spectre?”

“Oh no,” Vadix hurried to clarify, back to his normal volume. “My new partner, another recruit.”

“Ah,” his mother’s brow smoothed out of her concerned expression. “Good. While superior-subordinate relationships do regularly happen among our kind, I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you.”

It was the white turian’s turn to frown, “Why would it be bad specifically for me?”

His mother cradled his head in her palms and smiled sadly, “Because you’re my boy, the dearest person in my life. And I couldn’t bear it if you were to be hurt.”

Puzzled but sensing this was not a sentiment either of them wanted to dig into, Vadix accepted her explanation at face value. “Thanks for always looking out for me, Mother.”

“Of course. Now,” she continued, back to business with a steely subvocal tone. “Tell me what it is you like about this human. And please give me a gender so I can use the appropriate pronouns.”

The younger turian cocked his head, mandibles flaring as he laughed softly. “Yes, I suppose I’ve somehow managed to keep that a mystery up until now,” he snickered. “Her name is Cassana.”

“Ooh, what a lovely name,” Trebaana hummed. “To have caught your eye after all this time, _she_ must be something special.”

Her son made a face. “Why are you emphasizing ‘she’ like that?”

“Well, you’re already 25 years old, Vadix. I was beginning to think you might prefer men to women but were too afraid to tell me,” the woman stated without qualms.

Vadix, however, was appalled. “You thought I was gay?” he cried.

“I thought it was possible. You’ve always been a loner, you know. Whatever gender or species you’re interested in is fine with me; I just wanted you to trust me enough to tell me,” his mother tried to keep the hurt from her voice but he knew her too well not to catch it, written all over her face as it was. 

Placing one hand over hers, resting on the counter, he tried to console her. “I do trust you, more than anyone else in the universe.” She perked up slightly, looking at him from the sides of her eyes. “I’ve just never…” _Never what?_ he wondered. Certainly he’d never felt like this before, and he’d never met anyone quite like this fiery human woman. But then he’d also never wanted to feel like this, never sought to develop relationships beyond what he had with his parents. How much of what he felt was a direct result of her, and how much was a direct result of him?

His mother’s words sounded far away. “When did you meet her?”

“Um, let’s see…” he trailed off, doing the mental math. “That can’t be right. I guess it was only two days ago.”

“Oh, Vadix,” Trebaana sighed as she rose from her seat. “I do hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, though I suspect otherwise.”

Cocking his head, Vadix asked, “What do you mean? You think I can’t handle myself?”

The female turian paused mid-reach as she began to cook breakfast, contemplating how to answer her son’s question. “I know you can handle yourself as a law enforcement officer, anytime, anywhere. But as a man interested in a woman? I’m not convinced.”

Vadix could only sit in stunned silence, flabbergasted. His own mother didn’t think he was competent.

“Son,” she began, seeing the look on his face. After a deep breath, Trebaana continued, “You’re so inexperienced in this regard, and I just don’t want anyone to take advantage of you. And I understand that this isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. What kind of mother would I be if I didn’t prepare you for and protect you from those who would exploit your naivety?”

It felt like he’d been stripped of his armor and strung from the rafters by his elbow ridges. Gutted, that’s what he was.

“I’m going for a run,” he muttered before storming out the front door.

Nearly a kilometer later, his thoughts settled into a more logical pattern and Vadix felt like he could think straight again. He had no idea where he’d ended up but at least the exercise was a good outlet for all this pent-up steam.

Deep down he knew his mother was right: he had zero experience with women. It would only be too easy for someone to benefit from his ignorance.

But it still wasn’t easy to hear his most trusted confidante call him gullible.

Maybe she had a point though.

Vadix had no baseline with which to compare his current experiences. And even if he did, would turian flirting habits be the same as human ones?

Probably not.

After all, what did he have that she could possibly want?

While he was dedicated and hard-working, he had no concept of proper human courtship. Once he understood something, the lesson would stay with him for life, but he learned so slowly it would take months to be anywhere near her level of interpersonal interactions. And his precision in the firing range likely wouldn’t carry over into the bedroom.

Not exactly a stellar recommendation.

And anyway, Cassana was always making fun of him. That must be her way of subtly trying to tell him she wasn’t interested.

The realization made him feel deflated, like a shrub in the Presidium that tried in vain to cover a shortcut. His only consolation was that he’d realized now, before he’d done anything embarrassing.

Now all he could do was put it out of his mind and accept her offer of friendship—even if he didn’t know exactly what that should look like—with no hope for anything beyond that.

#

Waking earlier than normal, Cass felt surprisingly rested. Last night she’d fallen asleep very quickly thanks to a different kind of exhaustion than she normally experienced at the end of any given day. She still felt mortified about having passed out from the mere presence of firearms. After all, her mother’s kidnapping had happened twelve years ago. It shouldn’t affect her so much.

Before she could delve too far down that emotional rabbit hole, she rolled out of bed and began to fill her bathtub: since she was up before her alarm anyway, might as well take advantage of the unexpected “me” time.

The glass that enclosed her bath/shower combo quickly fogged up as the tub filled with hot water. The bathroom itself was so tiny that when she stepped into the steaming liquid and lay down, Cass couldn’t stretch out to her full, albeit average, height. Slowly the water level crept up her body and she reveled in the near-scalding temperature.

It was halfway to her knees when a knock at the door roused her from an almost meditative state.

_Maybe they’ll just go away_ , she thought hopefully.

Several solid thuds squelched her unspoken wish.

Although more people than she could easily count had visited her apartment, not many would come looking for her so early in the morning. It was probably her boss, wondering why she hadn’t shown up for her regularly scheduled shift last night. And he wasn’t the type to leave without getting answers.

Grumbling at the intrusion, she slid the door back and stepped onto the rug, wrapping the lone towel around herself. She had forgotten that she needed to do laundry: all her full-size towels were sitting in the hamper, leaving behind only a too-small towel. It barely reached the tops of her thighs. Yet another rap at the door resounded and she yelled, still further exasperated, “Coming!” She turned off the water, unsure how long this exchange would take.

If he wanted answers, sure, he could get them.

But she wasn’t going to play nice about it.

Padding out of the bathroom, the still-wet ends of her hair clinging to her shoulders while the crown of her head was still dry and now frizzy, Cass wrenched the door open, face set in an irritated grimace.

She wasn’t sure whose expression morphed into one of shock and alarm first, but in a spit second she was staring at the wide eyes and loose mandibles of her new favorite turian. “Vadix!” she exclaimed, voice pitched higher than normal.

He stared at a point just above her head. “Cassana, er, apologies. Um, so sorry to have, uh, interrupted you. I should’ve…” The turian trailed off, clearly at a loss, and still unwilling to meet her eyes.

“No, no, it’s alright,” she hurried to reassure him. “Please, come in. Is everything all right?” Cass asked as she ushered in her new friend. _My hair is an absolute disaster; of course this is when he sees me_ , she winced inwardly.

Vadix took several long strides into her small apartment, nearly to the far wall, and spoke without turning to face her, “No, nothing is wrong. I just, uh, thought I would… That is, I wanted to…” Finally he looked at her again and the human felt her cheeks redden at the raw intensity of his gaze.

_I’m wearing nothing but a towel_ , she suddenly remembered. Normally, being nearly nude made Cass feel powerful. Knowing the effect she could have on others was intoxicating, the sense of complete control it gave her, the trust that had to exist between them.

But, normally, she wasn’t in a half-bathed, half-dripping state.

“You wanted to?” she prompted, curious as to his answer while she wondered if he was curious about her body.

Clearing his throat, the turian answered, “I mean, I was going to offer to walk you to work.” He turned around once more as he continued, “After seeing where you live, I worried you might run into trouble without an escort.”

Cass raised an eyebrow at this, though the turian couldn’t see it. “’An escort’?” she repeated, mostly incredulous yet slightly amused. “Vadix, you do realize I’ve lived in this apartment, alone, for about twelve years, right? I know how to take care of myself.” _What nerve_ , she scoffed, wandering back toward her bathroom. As if she needed someone to look out for her. Especially after _she_ had stood up for _him_ last night. “Come on,” she called, gesturing for him to follow her.

“Where are you going?”

She could hear the confusion evident in his voice. “The bathroom,” she explained, trying not to laugh at his expense. “You interrupted my bath.” This was going to make him so uncomfortable, and the thought made her giggle with delight.

From behind, a few slow begrudging steps sounded in her wake. “Erm, can’t I just wait out here?”

Turning to face him again, the woman hid her teasing smile before responding, “And do what?”

Vadix glanced around quickly, apparently at a loss for words.

“Exactly,” she grinned. “And I detest yelling so you’ll need to be as near as possible if we’re going to have a conversation.”

Cass watched his mandibles flick away from his face a couple times until his head dipped in surrender. “Fine,” he muttered. “Only because you insist.”

“I do,” she agreed contentedly.

With the addition of an alien who had to be at least six feet tall, the miniature washroom seemed to shrink to half its size and Cass realized anew just how small her quarters were. The door to the bathroom was the only one in residence, other the front door. Everything else was situated in the petite main room: a dedicated cooking space was situated between two corners, opposite which sat a table nearly as long as the wall, surrounded by a couple chairs; another corner was taken up by her bed which, admittedly, was the largest piece of furniture in the apartment; and the last corner was the bathroom, with just enough space between the wall and the foot of the bed to open the door.

When the turian stepped into the tiny sub-room, there was next to no space between them. And though the woman didn’t mind in the least bit, she suspected her companion was experiencing a whole new level of discomfort. Quickly, she motioned toward the toilet. “Just sit on that,” she suggested, beginning to question the wisdom of this scheme. She only wanted to push his buttons a little, not push him inexorably away from her.

Vadix looked from her to the receptacle and back again. “What if I break it?” he queried with a straight face. “It doesn’t appear sturdy enough to hold my weight.”

Snorting, the human replied, “Well you’re too big to fall in so,” she shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

His brow plates pulled down into a frown. “What bridge?”

Another snicker escaped her, “Nothing, it’s just a figure of speech. Now, sit and close your eyes until I say. I’m getting back in the tub.” Shrinking into the corner made by the apartment wall and the glass sliding door, she made room for the turian to make his way to the toilet in the next corner.

His shoulders raised before he dropped heavily onto the lowered lid. “Guess it is solid enough,” Vadix murmured thoughtfully as his eyes closed obediently.

Cass unwrapped the towel from her chest and hung it on the wall next to her new friend. She heard him take a deep breath, her sternum inches from his forehead, and her heartbeat crashed.

“You smell nice,” he said softly. “But I don’t know how to describe the scent.”

Her eyes flicked to his still-closed ones and she sighed, half relieved and half disappointed. “Thank you,” she offered, unsure if he had intended it as a compliment or simply a statement of fact.

Moving away before she could do something rash, the human stepped back into the slightly turgid water and turned the hot faucet back on. After sliding the glass closed again, she instructed, “You can open your eyes now.”

The steam had dissipated from the inside of the door so Cass could clearly see the turian seated mere feet away. His dark eyes opened but didn’t look at her, and again she was torn between respect for his continued chivalry and dissatisfaction for his apparent lack of interest.

Apart from the sound of water gushing from the tap, silence stretched between them.

“What time is it?” the human asked, feeling the need to fill the quiet with something other than splashing.

Glancing at his omni-tool, Vadix replied, “Just after seven.”

Cassana whistled, then said, “You know, I think you’re the first person ever to be in my apartment between 6 am and 6 pm… weird,” she thought aloud. “Why did you come so early anyway?”

“Oh,” he huffed. “I guess it is rather early, isn’t it? Sorry about that. I’d been up for a couple hours and was about to head to the training room, so I figured I’d stop by and see you—I mean, see if you were also going to be heading out soon,” the turian hurried to correct himself.

Blushing was definitely a human thing, but if turians had some sort of equivalent, Cass would bet anything that her coworker was doing it right now. _Interesting_.

Out loud she said, “Damn. You’re a morning person, aren’t you?” before turning off the faucet.

She watched him cock his head as she squirted soap into her palms to wash her face. “I suppose so,” he said slowly. “I’ve never thought of it like that though. My parents and I are always awake by about 5—last night was the latest I’ve ever been out actually.” He sounded so innocent just then, she nearly giggled again. It was just too adorable.

“What?” Cass exclaimed, hands dropping from her face into the water with a loud splash. “We weren’t even out that late! You dropped me off at about 9.”

“I know,” he replied, embarrassed. “But I accidentally got lost a couple times on the way home, so I didn’t get to sleep until nearly 10.”

“Vadix, if I had known you were going to get lost I wouldn’t have let you walk me home,” the woman scolded as she continued to massage the exfoliating beads into her skin.

At this he sat up straighter on the toilet. “Hey now, I know how to get home from just about anywhere on the Citadel! I did grow up here after all,” he cried with righteous indignation.

“Then why did you get lost?” she countered.

Now he shrunk slightly in his seat. “I was…distracted,” he muttered glumly. Before she could press him further Vadix asked, “So what’s your regular morning routine?”

_Distracted by me or by something else_ , she pondered, but answered the turian’s question. “I’m normally up by 7 or 7:30, then I’ll shower, sometimes I make a little breakfast but usually I just grab something ready-to-go for lunch, and I’m out the door by about 8.”

“And when do you normally go to sleep?” he continued questioning.

Cass hummed—stalled—before answering, “Usually by 1 or 2 in the morning. Depending.” Scooting forward in the tub, she dipped her head back to submerge her hair completely, the water level covering both of her ears and effectively cutting off his next question, and closed her eyes. She knew what he would ask. It was the same question everyone asked. And she didn’t want to tell him what she did so late at night, but she also didn’t want to lie.

Part of her wasn’t ashamed of who she was, what she believed, and how she acted.

Part of her wished he would connect the dots on his own.

But did she really want him to know?

Maybe he’d simply be too distracted by her legs that were no longer immersed in the water. Or better still, her breasts. The man must be at least somewhat curious about her alien anatomy. With pleasure she stretched her spine, forming a bridge with her upper body, a bridge that was only partially submerged. She brought her elbows closer together behind her back, feeling several vertebrae pop with satisfaction.

Earlier he’d asked _“What bridge?”_ at her use of the human idiom. _This bridge_ , she thought hungrily, _is the one I’d like you to cross_.

Finally, sitting up again, the woman scrubbed shampoo into her auburn locks, waiting for him to ask the question she must’ve missed while underwater.

It didn’t come.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye, the sliding door now thoroughly foggy. At every turn he shattered her expectations, and for the first time in over a decade she wondered what it would be like to have a true partner, someone to share with and turn to in the ups and downs of life.

Dozens of times Cass had been naked in front of another creature. Yet somehow this naïve turian, only an arm’s length away from her and separated by nothing but a thin layer of glass and a soapy tub of water, made her feel more exposed and vulnerable than anyone previously had.

The realization was equally daunting and thrilling.

Unlike any of her previous lovers who had existed on a wide scale of commitment—tipped heavily toward only a matter of hours—this turian man made her question the assumptions she had long ago accepted as fact. After her one and only serious relationship had fragmented with fantastic absoluteness, Cass had woken as if from a daze, picked up the pieces of herself that she could locate, and filled in the gaps with armored notions to protect from further injury.

Now she stood on the precipice of another leap of faith, daring to tempt fate with hope for the future.

But was she up to the endeavor, or would he simply break her beyond the possibility of recovery?


	16. Tumbled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Vadix sat in silence, knowing she must be expecting him to keep asking questions, but he was suddenly afraid of the answers. After all, he had no reason to doubt her honesty, and he believed Cassana would tell him the truth, no matter the content of his query.

She hadn’t said much of consequence this morning, true, but he still felt overwhelmed by her: by her past words, by her present actions, by her various states of undress. Vadix thought he’d been prepared to see Cassana again, especially after a chagrined apology led to another lengthy but enlightening discussion with Trebaana who didn’t have any experience with courting a human, but still had more experience with courting, period, than he did.

It was not good timing to be thinking about his mother.

Instead, thinking back on when she’d opened the door, it was all too easy to picture again. That unfamiliar ache lurched behind his lower plates as Vadix thought about those bizarrely smooth pair of legs, a confusing patchwork of cream and pink skin, while from the top of the towel peeped more exposed flesh, none of which was red in the slightest, caressed by the damp tendrils of flaming hair that sprouted perplexingly from her head.

Puzzled as he was by the color combination, it was unlike anything he’d yet to see in his life. But then she was unlike anyone he’d yet to meet, so he supposed it made sense, in an oddly erotic sort of way.

Upon first seeing her, he had simply been too shocked to think anything.

One look and it was like his brain had stopped computing.

He had been almost glad for the pain he’d felt where his lower plates normally met. It brought him back to the present. And the discomfort meant that the object of his desire couldn’t immediately discern his sudden lust for her.

Which, he mused, was an entirely new and foreign feeling for him. He’d never wanted another turian in that way, nor any member of any other species for that matter. Of course, after his years in the academy, Vadix had heard enough stories to be familiar with the concept of an inexplicable longing, of the act of sex that sometimes followed if you were lucky, even of mating. He’d learned a great deal from eavesdropping on classmates.

Or he’d thought it had been a great deal.

None of what they’d said compared to what he felt for this alien woman, what he wished to give her, what he wanted from her, what he yearned to do to her.

The ferocity of this last craving floored him.

No wonder human-turian pairings were so uncommon. Vadix was no expert but somehow he knew that her fleshy hide and vulnerable body, attractive as they may be, were no match for the animalistic need to mark her, to claim her as his, which was only just beginning to course through him like an electric current.

Even if she was up to the challenge mentally, physically Cassana would be unable to withstand it.

And then she would inevitably hate him.

But then, she had on several occasions alluded to just how thorough her study of living things was, through her “clients”, as she called them. Perhaps she had already experienced firsthand this kind of intensity.

Preferably not with another turian though.

This one did not want to share.

But who was he kidding? She was beautiful, sensual, irresistible.

Of course she’d slept with a turian before.

Not that they would’ve done much sleeping.

No, there would’ve been no sleeping at all.

She must already be familiar with the aggressive, even barbaric, lovemaking of his race.

Just claws and muscles and sex and tongue and teeth.

All night.

The thought was far more repellant than it was comforting.

Vadix tried to think objectively for a moment, biting down on the instinct to bare his teeth at unknown and as yet unconfirmed competition.

First, he reminded himself, it would be far more surprising if she were less experienced than he was, especially given his own lack of interest up until this moment. As far as he could tell, she was not lacking as far as motive was concerned.

Second, from the very little he knew, Cassana _was_ at least pretty by human standards, but with her vivacious personality and confident airs he suspected she was nothing short of sexy. It was easy to imagine her having had at least one offer of companionship at some point during her life thus far.

And third, if she had… Vadix could hardly think the words. If she had previously spent the night with a turian, then she was less likely to be startled by the savage longing he felt for her.

He swallowed down the growl building in his throat with some difficulty, hoping to all the spirits that his subvocals weren’t giving him away.

Now all that remained to be known was if she would have him.

That’s what Vadix tried to tell himself anyway. But what he really wanted to know was how many partners she’d had, why she’d picked any of them, if he even stood a chance to measure up or if she would forever see him as a child, immature and ignorant.

Rather than dwell on these plaguing questions that only seemed to multiply with the answers he received, the turian let his mind dwell again on the alien anatomy he now found so magnetic. _Perhaps she would rather bathe in silence_ , he excused himself wordlessly from the conversation now long over as he watched her through the glass. Her bare outline was blurred into a curvy mess, such that all Vadix could easily discern were colors. And it was like the waxing or waning of a sun: golds and reds and burning.

Hard as he tried to be gallant, his eyes were practically glued to her form as she stood. The foggy glass was somehow worse than the fluffy towel: he could see more but he could distinguish less.

Too distracted to realize how long the silence had lasted, Vadix was startled to hear Cassana’s voice once more.

“Are you still there?” her voice echoed in the muggy room.

Nodding, the turian replied gruffly, “Yes, haven’t moved.”

“Good,” she murmured, and Vadix thought the human sounded preoccupied. “Get my towel from the wall next to you and hold it out in front of you. I’m coming out.”

Barely having time to process her words before the glass began to slide back, he snatched the fabric from the hanger and stood, extending it toward her, the bottom edge quivering half a meter off the ground. _It doesn’t look tall enough_ , Vadix noted absentmindedly.

And then the door stopped with a smack and he could just see the top of her scalp above the edge of her towel.

From behind it, Vadix heard a faint giggle, “What an odd way to use a towel.” But she made no move to step out of the tub.

“How else would you use it?” he mumbled, embarrassed.

Her hidden giggle turned into a snicker. “You hold it horizontally, obviously. So you can wrap it around yourself. Or do you not do that?”

Mandibles flapping his discomfiture, the turian carefully turned the towel 90 degrees.

Now he could see the woman grinning at him. Well, _laughing at me_ , he amended mentally. He still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Again, just like when she’d greeted him this morning, the towel masked her core, covering her from just below the shoulders to just below the hips.

And just like this morning, Vadix couldn’t mask his own visceral response to her. He fought internally against the dull throb now pressed against his armor while his subvocals purred with pleasure.

Once more he was grateful that his armor was stronger than his arousal.

Cassana’s eyebrows quirked upward from an expression the man didn’t recognize. “Do you hear something?” she wondered aloud. “Sounds like… humming.” But then she shrugged it off, “Must be an appliance at the neighbor’s or something. These places are so old, it’s like there’s a new sound every day.”

Vadix could only grunt in response, fearing that to open his mouth would be tantamount to surrender.

What he didn’t know was if he would be surrendering to her or to himself.

#

Watching this man watching her, Cass was tempted to steal the towel from him and drop it in the bath. After all, “coming on strong” was a bit of an understatement when it came to her go-to method to catch someone’s eye. She knew exactly how to make herself desirable and she wasn’t afraid to do it.

But Vadix wasn’t like any of her previous conquests. No, he wasn’t at all a conquest to be had. From everything he’d told her, Cass knew he was a virgin in every sense of the word.

That’s not to say her regular strategies wouldn’t work, but somehow it would feel like cheating, especially when the poor man probably didn’t even know the proper names—nor the slang terms—for all of her enticing sexual organs.

And then, if she was being entirely honest with herself, there was something so appealing about earning his affection without resorting to any sly techniques.

As much as she wanted him to want her, if it was going to be anything beyond simple sex with no strings attached, the woman would have to think outside of her kink box.

Cass still wasn’t sure if that was really what she wanted, but she also wasn’t ready to take that option entirely off the table just yet.

So, she settled for stepping out of the tub and, turning around, into the waiting towel. Pinching it from the turian’s grasp she murmured “thanks” and moved to the vanity in the remaining corner. Given the presence of current company, Cass briefly debated about skipping her post-shower routine but decided to go for it: after all, it wasn’t intended to be attractive.

But if he wanted to stare, she wasn’t going to stop him.

After tucking in one corner of the towel just below her collarbone, she grabbed the remaining clean washcloth to pull the dampness from her hair.

Her companion asked a question, just as she was beginning to worry about the silence. “Does it have a purpose, your hair?”

The direction of his thoughts caught her off guard. “Um, no, I guess not…” Cass trailed off. “I’m sure there’s some biological or evolutionary reason for it but now it’s just used for individual expression, I suppose.” She glanced at the turian, now seated on the edge of the tub. His brow plates were pulled down and his mandibles were pressed tight to his slightly open mouth. The human grinned at his pure curiosity. “Do you want to feel it?” Walking over before he could respond, she angled her neck to drape her drying mane in front of him.

With a metallic thud, Vadix fell back into the now-empty bathtub.

“Shit!” Cass cried, leaning over him. “Are you alright? What happened?”

With eyes closed and mandibles wafting in and out, the man sighed, “I sort of jumped when you were suddenly so close and must’ve lost my balance.”

“Well, here, let me help you out,” she offered, extending a hand toward the alien half-prostrated in her tub. Gripping his talons, she started to pull on his arm.

Then shrieked.

The human tumbled into the bathtub, her hips pressed against his knees, bare feet flailing in the air, and barely managed to get her hands up before her face slammed into his armored chest piece.

Cass looked up and she was less than a handspan away from the turian’s mandibles, twitching beneath widened navy eyes.

She was reminded of the first time she saw him, running in the Presidium. Then he had looked like he was running from something.

Now the human felt like running away too: she didn’t want to _feel_ any of this, whatever this was. A passing attraction was one thing, but the butterfly wings she was beginning to feel in her stomach? Bad news.

Forcing herself to break eye contact, the woman began to rise but Vadix stopped her, pointing a timid talon while gripping her upper arm with the other. “Er, your towel, coming loose,” he blurted, voice gravelly, likely from the weight on his chest.

She glanced down and, sure enough, the tussle with the bathtub had proved too much for the fabric corner. Pressed as she was against his armor, her cleavage was only inches from becoming full-on flashing. Noticing his eyes were pinched tight, Cass tried to think quickly, suggesting, “Um, I’m gonna turn over, alright? Better leverage, and then I can sit up and get out of your way.”

Making sure to roll in the same direction as the towel wrapped around her, the human slowly wiggled onto her back. It was much more difficult to do than she expected, given that she couldn’t touch the floor with her feet and had to use her hands to maintain some semblance of modesty. Finally she sat up, her own legs flush with the turian’s, who grunted audibly as her weight continued to shift.

“Sorry,” she breathed. Cass held the towel with one hand and tried to pull herself up with the other, clinging to the glass door. But all she could manage was sitting on air instead of on turian.

“Damn, this angle,” she swore as she settled back into Vadix’s lap, who stifled a moan. “Sorry,” she apologized again, embarrassed for the first time that she could remember in nearly a decade.

Then she was struck with inspiration. Peeking over her shoulder, she asked the man, “How’s your upper body strength?”

His eyes snapped open. “My what?”

Sighing, Cass explained, “I’m gonna need you to lift me up until I can touch the floor again.”

“Lift you up?” he repeated. “How?”

The human rolled her eyes. “Do you need my explicit permission?” she huffed. “Fine. Vadix: you’re going to grab my ass and push, okay?”

His mandibles hung loose in shock but he answered, nearly mute, “Okay.”

Gripping her towel and reaching for the door frame, Cass asked, “Ready?”

Vadix grunted in response.

Hoping that was an affirmative, she stretched forward and, just as she grabbed the slippery glass, Cass was propelled forward, nearly tripping over the surplus of feet in the tiny bathroom.

But at least she was out of the tub. And she’d (probably) managed not to disrobe in front of her new coworker and friend.

“Thanks!” she exclaimed with relief.

She turned to face him again and the turian seemed to be half-smiling, half-growling.

“You help me now?” he asked, stuttering.

“No! That’s what got us into that mess in the first place,” Cass protested.

Vadix rolled his head at her, as much as the cramped tub allowed. “Rude.”

She rolled her eyes at him now. “Not rude, just practical.” Feeling playful, she stuck her tongue out at him.

Chuckling in response, the sound seemed to reverberate within the confines of the tub. _What a pleasing_ _sound_ , the woman noticed.

But after watching Vadix pull himself out with relative ease, Cass folded her arms and glared at him. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

The turian looked innocently at her, standing stiffly. “Did what?”

“You pulled me in!” She couldn’t believe it. This was something she would’ve expected from… well from anyone but this naïve little boy, honestly.

“Did not!” he complained, pouting just like a little boy.

Cass eyed him suspiciously as she turned back to the vanity. “I’m not sure I believe you, so you better stay over there until I’m done,” she stated, pointing back at the toilet.

He rolled his head again, but did as he was told.

“Good boy,” she complimented him, sniggering. “I just gotta finish up in here, get dressed, and pack a bag for after work.”

“Why?” Vadix asked from his corner seat.

Groaning, Cass answered, “Monthly ‘girls night’, with some friends from my job at the club. I never look forward to it but then it always ends up being fun. It’s the one night I just let loose and have fun and put my own needs and wants before anyone else’s: no holds barred.”


	17. Encountered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Vadix sat mute on the edge of her bed, waiting for the time to pass, trying not to disturb anything. He had been unable to form a coherent response to any of Cassana’s attempts to engage in conversation after their unexpected foray into her bathtub. His grunts and one-word answers had eventually deterred her efforts. Of course he wanted to talk to her, to smooth over his own bumbling actions with suave words and an easy explanation. But what he could think to say, which was very little, kept getting stuck in his throat.

The turian just wasn’t cut out for this. He’d much rather face down armed suspects than apologize to a beautiful woman for being a buffoon. That was what his skillset was calibrated for.

Finally she had shooed him out of the bathroom so she could finish dressing and packing, giving him a side-long glance out the door.

Being away from her was both a reprieve and a regret, but at least it gave him time to quash all remaining hormones. The discomfort at his lower plates had quickly morphed from a dull throb into a sharp edge as she’d rolled around on his chest. The man knew it wasn’t meant as a sexual advance, but his cock didn’t seem to get the message.

He closed his eyes and tried to think of gruesome crime scenes, of colleagues’ loud-mouthed insults, of his own utter ineptitude. As he contemplated how self-conscious he felt, the pain lessened and he could breathe more deeply.

Now all he had to do was not think about _her_.

Given that he now spent the large majority of his waking time with the human, Vadix knew this was going to be excessively difficult. But if he had already made it through two days, he could make it through today. He’d just take it one day at a time.

Having his anatomy back under control, the turian looked around the room again and actually noticed things: a neat kitchen with very few cupboards and even fewer appliances crowded against the wall, a clean but ragged dining table with a couple of mismatched chairs in the middle of the room, some sort of thick fabric rectangle to the side of the bed beneath his feet—it was much softer than the rest of the floor and Vadix could understand the appeal—and some clothes that had collected at the foot of the bed. The only distinguishable article of clothing was a mystery to him: two bright blue half-spheres connected by an inch or so of fabric. _Almost looks like knee pads_ , Vadix wondered to himself.

In a single glance around the room, he had seen everything. It felt like something was missing.

And then it dawned on him. Cassana had no personal effects. Not a single picture or paper littered the apartment, on any surface. No mention or reference could be found of her family or friends—or even herself.

The realization saddened him.

She emerged from the tiny bathroom before he could dwell too long on the thought. “Let me just grab something to eat and then we can go,” she called over her shoulder, striding into the kitchen.

“No worries,” Vadix murmured. “It’s not even eight yet.”

“Great,” she replied, stooping to look in her fridge. Almost immediately she popped back up, “Alright, let’s go!”

Standing, the man asked, “Doesn’t your body need more food than that?” He couldn’t even tell what she was holding, it was so small.

Cassana glanced down at her hand, then shrugged. “Probably, but I figure ‘mind over matter’ and all that. I just convince myself I’m not hungry.”

“That doesn’t sound healthy, Cassana.” His tone was much more reprimanding than he’d intended.

She raised an eyebrow at him in response. “Thanks for your concern, I guess.”

Vadix shook his head, chagrined. “Sorry, sorry. Not my business,” he muttered as he followed her to the front door.

“It’s alright,” she said, glancing at him. “I do appreciate your thoughtfulness. I’ve just never had to explain myself to anyone.” The woman looked to be on the verge of saying more, but stopped, locking the door behind her.

They walked in silence for several minutes.

“Thanks, again,” she offered, breaking the tension. “You don’t have to walk me to work, but I’m glad you came.”

“Of course, Cassana,” he responded automatically. He still felt like moping: nothing he did was right with her.

A chuckle to his side caught his attention. “Why do you insist on calling me by my full name?” she asked him.

He took a moment to take stock of his reasoning, only to realize there wasn’t any. “I hadn’t thought there were other options,” the turian realized aloud.

“Oh,” Cassana laughed. “Well you can call me ‘Cass’, if you want. That’s what basically everyone calls me.”

Brow furrowed, Vadix queried, “Is that what your friends call you?”

“Yes.”

“And,” he paused. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yes again,” she replied, stifling another chuckle.

_Is she being serious?_ he wondered intently.

A few more steps passed in relative quiet, only the sounds of the Citadel to be heard.

Finally Vadix conceded to his curiosity. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

The human stopped in her tracks, looking a bit startled. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, you keep laughing at me,” he admitted, standing next to her. Looking down, he met her steely gaze. But somehow her eyes were soft, inviting even.

“Oh, Vadix, I’m so sorry. Sometimes I forget that you don’t have much experience interacting with your peers outside of a work setting. I didn’t mean for you to feel that way,” she bit her lip, thinking, then sighed at her feet. “Actually if I’m being completely honest, I don’t have many ‘friends’, in the true sense of the word. Sure, I know a lot of people, and I know a lot of things about them. But very few of them know much about me.” Here she peeked up at him, biting her lip again with the corner of her canine—the sight was oddly sensual.

Vadix cleared his throat, determined to pay attention to her words and not just her mouth.

“Now that I think about it,” Cassana continued. “You probably know more about me than almost anyone.”

This surprised him. “What?” he exclaimed.

Nodding, she reassured him. “Yup. So, in reality, it seems my friends call me ‘Cassana’.”

He felt his mandibles fade out and in, slightly awestruck. “Oh,” was all he could manage to say.

“Okay?” she asked him, a little worry staining her voice.

Clearing his throat again, the turian nodded. “Yes, yes, fine. Er, shall we continue?” he gestured down the hall, which was starting to feel more crowded as they left the apartment complex.

“Alright,” Cassana murmured, chuckling. She turned around and began walking again.

Once more, Vadix was at a loss for words. Suddenly he felt… special. Funny that she could make him feel this way with nothing more than permission to use her full name. Nothing had changed, not really.

But here he was, mandibles stretched in a wide grin, feeling like a champion.

Having friends was spectacular.

Well, one friend, he reminded himself.

Still, it was an awesome sensation.

“Cass!” a clear voice called out.

The woman stopped in her tracks and looked around, unable to ascertain the source of the yell. Until a burly looking human approached from the flow of traffic crossing in front of them, smiling with his teeth. He clasped Cassana in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground a few inches, making Vadix grumble.

“How are you?” the stranger asked when he set her back on the ground, still gripping her arms. “I haven’t seen you in far too long,” he lamented.

“Great! And you? And Dimitri? How are things?” she responded, suddenly seeming very far away to her turian companion.

“So much better, but you taught me everything I know, you know. You should come by again sometime! I’ve got a brilliant surprise for you, if I do say so myself, but I lost your contact info in the move so I haven’t been able to put my plan into action—so glad I ran into you now!” The man just wouldn’t let go of her. Vadix was not pleased.

“Of course! I’ll send you a message again so you have my info, and we’ll have to schedule something. But really, you don’t need to do anything extravagant. It was my pleasure,” Cassana smiled humbly, then glanced at her coworker from her lowered lashes. “Oh, I’m being so rude: Vadix, this is Max. Max, this is my friend, Vadix.” Her cheeks began to pink. Normally this would’ve lifted the turian’s spirits—it was just so irresistible—but now he resisted her allure; he was too irritated.

The human man released one arm and extended it to Vadix, which he gladly gripped and shook—hard. “Nice to meet you,” he replied gruffly.

“And you,” Max winced, then turned his attention back to the woman. “Really, Cass. All those long nights we spent… It meant so much to me. Still does. But I gotta run, I’ll call you!” Leaning in, he kissed her on the cheek and then rushed off, back into the crowd of people headed toward the Presidium.

Both Cassana and Vadix stood there for a moment, staring after him.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized. “He’s a former client, but we spent a lot of time together so he’s one of the few who still seeks me out on occasion. Such a good guy,” she ended fondly.

“It’s fine,” the turian stated, not wanting to dwell. “Let’s get to work.”

Whatever fuzzy feelings he’d had minutes ago had dissipated in the departure of the woman’s ex-lover.

#

Upon arriving at C-Sec HQ, after a thankfully short walk, Cass threw herself into her training. The morning had started so strangely but they’d worked things out into a good place.

Until Max had made an appearance.

Maintaining contact with her previous clients had never been odd or uncomfortable before, but then she’d never had a friend quite like Vadix. Of course they were definitely still “just friends” at the moment, she reminded herself, but even just who he was as a person was so completely different from all the other people she associated with that she didn’t know quite how to balance things. If she were completely open about her passions, the turian would probably think she was crazy and want nothing to do with her. Better to leave him in the dark and patch up as best she could whatever awkwardness happened to come up.

His discomfort had been readily apparent the whole way to work.

And what could she say to fix it? “He’s just a guy I taught about the psychology of sex”?—yeah, that would go over well.

Instead, she resolved to dedicate herself to whatever he asked her to do: guns, punching, exercise, the whole nine yards.

The only issue was that Vadix was barely speaking to her. Already she’d had to prompt him for directions twice. He didn’t even notice when she stopped swinging and stepped away from the punching bag. Turning to face him, the man simply continued to stare at the top of the hanging weight over her head. Cass worried her lip, curious and a little concerned about what had so encompassed his attention.

But how to get him to talk again?

She’d have to come at him from the side, not head on, so a straight up conversation was out of the question. Words didn’t seem to come easily to him.

Briefly Cass considered firing the shotgun again. He’d certainly hear that. But she wasn’t sure if she trusted herself to use a firearm on her own just yet. Better to avoid any chance of fatal injury.

Then it dawned on her: she needed to come at him from the side, literally.

Carefully she stepped away toward the center of the room where she’d left a water bottle. Picking it up, she watched her companion concentrating so intently. He’d taught her to pay attention, to take advantage of her opponent—even the cheap shots. Though right now that probably wasn’t the best way to get back in his good graces.

A jumping attack from behind? No, he was too tall. The most she’d end up accomplishing was getting a piggy-back ride.

His arms were folded against his chest so those weren’t good options… maybe a leg? She could pull one out from under him and then try to pin Vadix to the ground, use his weight and gravity against him.

That was probably her best bet.

Setting her water down again, she moved toward her target as stealthily as she could. A few feet away, she stopped in a crouched position to glance at his face again, which was still as impassive as ever. Cass took a deep breath, focused on his near ankle, and lunged.

Having ducked down for better leverage, she pressed with all her strength to push his leg back— _Damn, he’s heavier than I realized_ —and somehow managed it. As the turian fell forward with a cry of “Spirits!”, his balance unexpectedly upset, the woman rolled onto his back, still clutching his foot.

“Cassana!” he yelled, voice muffled by his sudden proximity to the floor. “What the hell?”

She only grunted in response, keeping her attention on maintaining her grip. Already she was slipping as he tried to pull his leg out of her hands.

Huffing, the man muttered, “Two can play at that game.” And suddenly Cass was sliding off the back of his armor as he lifted himself into a one-legged push-up position.

She lost her grip and fell to the ground, laughing and grinning like a buffoon.

When he had settled into a seated position, Vadix asked wearily, “What exactly did that accomplish?”

“You weren’t speaking to me, so I had to get creative,” she shrugged, beaming at him. “But I did try to practice the few principles you’ve taught me. How did I do?”

The turian rolled his head, but couldn’t quite hide his matching grin. “You know what, I’d give that a B, maybe a B+ since I haven’t taught you any real hand-to-hand combat moves.”

“That’s it?” Cass pouted, stifling a giggle.

Nodding sagely, he replied, “Yes. But since you’re in the mood for some roughhousing, let the educating begin.”

The woman hopped to her feet, excited at the prospect of learning to protect herself and others from physical harm. After all, she’d dedicated herself to protecting against emotional damage for so long, it made sense to branch out.

Minutes stretched into hours and her instructor made no hints of relenting. The sweat that had previously perplexed the turian was constantly streaming out of Cass’s pores. With surprisingly patience, Vadix taught her several techniques, such as eye gouging, elbow strikes, different knee uses, and various methods of employing her feet. They drilled the skills relentlessly, slowly building the human’s muscle memory and cementing the actions into automatic reactions.

The only break came when Commander Shepard sent each of them a message indicating someone named Dr. Chakwas would stop by the next day to do a routine examination of their mental and physical health. The idea of it seemed almost invasive to the human, but Vadix assured her that it was normal in the military world, where people were assets to be watched over and cared for from start to finish.

By the end of the day Cass was exhausted, sore, and hungry, but happy to return to a sense of normalcy with her friend. Fortunately the unease of the morning seemed to have been forgotten.

Now all she wanted to do was return to her bathtub for a nice long soak. She’d earned it this time.

“When are you meeting your friends?” Vadix asked after the woman caught her breath.

She groaned in response, “Oh no, I totally forgot about that. I really need to shower, at least wash my hair before I go out in public again.”

Vadix gestured toward the back of the room. “Should be one back there, though I can’t promise there are any towels,” he offered, mandibles quirking with humor.

“I’ll take my chances,” the human laughed. “Only need to stick my head in.” Cass trotted back to inspect the tiny stall tucked in the corner. Sure enough, there was a showerhead and not a towel in sight. _Ah well_ , she thought. _Worth it_ _not to smell like a krogan in heat_.

Carefully putting her head under the stream of water, she quickly rinsed her hair then wrung it out, pulling as much excess water off as she could. Stepping back into the main room, she continued to ruffle her fingers through the tangled locks.

The turian cocked his head at her, staring.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, afraid she was making him uncomfortable again. But at least she was still fully clothed at the moment.

He shook his head. “No need to apologize. I was just thinking how strangely absorbent it is. Your hair, I mean.”

Now Cass cocked her head. “Why is that strange?”

“Well, turian skin repels water,” he explained, as if this should’ve been obvious.

Cass felt her mouth drop open slightly. “I’ve never heard that!” she exclaimed.

The turian shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.

“No wonder you held the towel so funny,” the human mused. “You don’t need to use one.”

Vadix pointed one talon at her and nodded. “That’s it.”

Chuckling, Cass shook her head. “That explains so much,” she trailed off. Her hair was still damp but at least it wasn’t dripping. “Um, I’m just going to go back there and change,” she murmured, feeling strangely self-conscious. It wasn’t a normal feeling for her.

Her companion merely grunted and turned around, fiddling with a weapon on the table, apparently oblivious to her discomfort.

_Well_ , the woman thought drily. _Let’s see how unaffected he is after I switch outfits_.


	18. Courted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Knowing that a woman was naked in the same room with him had never bothered Vadix before. Nor a naked man. He’d seen plenty of nude individuals of several races and not once had it given him pause.

But now, knowing that it was _this_ woman, _this_ mysterious attractive woman, who was naked in the same room—for the second time that day!—was proving to be much more difficult to bear.

He’d had to turn around while she was still clothed. Otherwise, the man thought, she’d see right through him. And besides, it was easier to remain facing the weapons bench than it was to stare at the stall and then convince himself to turn around. It wasn’t necessarily easy, but it was easier. Or so Vadix told himself.

A soft _ahem_ from behind had him nearly whipping around in anticipation.

She just kept surprising him.

Cassana stood about a meter away wearing the least amount of fabric he’d ever seen on a human. Shimmering with iridescence, it embraced her body from shoulders to waist in a deep V. The silvery material stretched around her hips, leaving the vast majority of her legs bare.

Feeling his mandibles go limp, Vadix didn’t know where to look, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. “Wow,” he managed, proud of himself for not squeaking like a pup.

“Thank you,” she murmured, approaching the bench—and him. “What are you working on?” Cassana asked from his side.

From his vantage above her, the turian suddenly had a view of her back as she leaned over the table. Entirely bare, he could see the whole outline of her spine from neck to pelvis. _Who knew a dress could be such a work of engineering_ , his stunned brain slowly computed.

“Hey,” the woman called, shoving him in the arm. “Still with me?”

Clearing his throat deeply, Vadix nodded. “Right, yes. Uh, I was just sorting through the mods in the weapons locker. Out of boredom. It’s not necessary. And we won’t be using them. Just wanted to give you some privacy.” _Spirits, stop me now_.

She snickered, “It’s not like I didn’t have a door. But thank you, I guess.” Pausing, Cassana seemed to consider her next words. “It does make me wonder though. Didn’t Commander Shepard say the training room walls are one-way glass?”

Vadix nodded, not seeing where this was going.

A scary looking smile stretched across the human’s face. “Well. It just makes me want to make out against the wall. It would be exhilarating: to feel like people walking past could see…” trailing off, she stared into the distance.

The man’s brow plates drew together in confusion. “’Make out’?” he repeated.

His question caught her attention, and she cocked her head in response. “What about it?”

“I don’t understand what that means in this context,” Vadix mumbled, unsure why he felt ashamed. It wasn’t the first time he didn’t understand human customs and it surely would not be the last.

The statement was met with raised brows from both parties, his in response to hers.

“You know,” she gestured vaguely in the air. “Passionate kissing?” Cassana suggested. “Very popular among the kids, before they discover sex anyway.”

The turian shook his head, “The only part of what you just said that I’m familiar with is the sex.” His mind crashed. “I mean, not that I’m familiar with sex but—well, not that I’m not familiar with it. That is, I know the mechanics of it—”

She cut him off. “Vadix, it’s alright, I know what you meant,” the human said, stifling laughter. “You mean you don’t even know about kissing?” Now she sounded positively perplexed.

He shook his head slowly, afraid to open his mouth again.

Tilting her head, Cassana looked at him, hard. “Hm,” was all she said for a moment.

Finally she released him from her gaze. “Well to clarify, when one person touches their lips to someone else, usually to their lips too, it’s called kissing. It can be totally platonic, or it can be romantic, and making out is basically kissing for a long time without stopping. At least it starts that way,” she ended, chuckling to herself.

Nodding, Vadix responded, “Oh, I see. Turians don’t have lips so maybe that’s why we don’t do it.” He cringed, “I mean, we do _do_ _it_ , but not what you’re talking about, kissing, not a thing. For us.” _Not_ _again_.

Once more she was laughing at him. “I got it,” she assured him. “But now I’m curious: what do you do instead?”

He blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“What do turians do? You know, when they date?”

Her genuine curiosity surprised him. Vadix had assumed she already knew everything. “Oh,” he hummed, contemplating how to answer. “Do you really want to know?”

She nodded eagerly.

“And you promise not to laugh?” he challenged, still feeling a little sensitive about being so ignorant.

“Cross my heart,” she agreed. Then, seeing his puzzled expression, Cassana reiterated, smiling, “I promise.”

The turian eyed her once more before taking a deep breath. “Well, depends on the level of commitment I suppose. A really flirtatious female may incite brawls between single males, though this isn’t as common anymore. She’ll start it using an olfactory display and it drives the males wild. But in a serious relationship, the pair will give each other tongue baths and they’ll share food. Sometimes the man will even feed his sweetheart. Eventually, when you spend enough time together, your subvocals become sort of attuned with each other and they effectively make a song unique to that partnership.”

“You sound like you speak from experience,” she murmured, a melancholy note echoed in the words.

“Mm,” he agreed wordlessly. “I’ve seen it in my parents’ marriage. They’ve been together so long they must’ve been through a lot. They don’t talk much about it, but I can see it. I can feel it.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, each lost in their own thoughts.

But the human’s curiosity wasn’t yet sated. “Can I ask you another question?” she wondered.

“Of course,” Vadix answered automatically.

“Well, everything you talked about was just courtship. You didn’t mention anything about the bedroom…” she began tentatively.

He thought his heart was going to stop. “You’re asking me about turian…mating?” he finally finished.

Cassana nodded gingerly, peeking up at him.

Mandibles flaring, Vadix took another calming breath, though not quite as calming as he had hoped. “Er, well, it’s uh—” he started, feeling supremely uncomfortable.

“Forget it,” she urged, looking back down at the weapons bench. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m too nosy for my own good.”

Briefly, the turian thought about simply heaving a sigh of relief and moving on. But then, if she was asking him about it, that meant she wasn’t already familiar with it.

Which meant she hadn’t had a turian lover.

The thought had him almost purring.

Not that she’d have _him_ , of course. But talking about it would be a first of sorts. For both of them.

He knew it was stupid.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting it just the same.

“No, it’s alright,” he reassured her. “I don’t mind.”

Glancing down at her, the woman was staring up at him with wide eyes, the dark centers enlarged. _I can’t look at her while I talk about this_ , he worried, looking away.

“Well it doesn’t always happen this way but, in a true turian mating, the real union between a man and a woman, there’s a sort of battle, first. The male must mimic the movements of the female, drawing close or pulling apart, whatever she chooses. This can go on as long as she wants, and he just has to suffer through it, to show his dedication and loyalty to her. When she’s satisfied with his demonstration, she’ll make an unmistakable advance toward him. This is a signal which brings on a ‘fight’, for lack of a better word. Then the man has to subdue his partner to prove his strength and endurance. She’ll put up resistance with everything she’s got, and it usually gets bloody, but it’s also very arousing. It only ends when they’re in a certain position, a kind of balancing act, his front to her back, with the man on top, to confirm her submission to and trust in him. Without all of these steps,” Vadix shrugged, “it’s just rough sex.”

The human was quiet.

For possibly the first time since he’d known her.

Observing a new and slightly acidic smell hazing the air, the man began to worry. “Are you alright, Cassana?” he whispered. She jumped when he touched her arm.

“Yes! Sorry,” she exclaimed.

“Did I upset you?” Vadix worried. _Wouldn’t be the first time_.

Snorting, Cassana shook her head. “Not at all. On the contrary, it sounds really sexy.”

#

She had to refrain from using her hand as a fan. Although it wasn’t her species’ custom, what Vadix described had actually made her feel…aroused. Cass knew it probably shouldn’t—blood wasn’t her idea of a good time, at any time, and it would surely make an appearance if she were to participate in something so inherently violent—but she still couldn’t stop imagining how it would be.

Until she noticed a dampness forming in her panties.

“Shit,” she swore under her breath.

Immediately her companion reacted, grasping her arms in his talons. “What’s wrong?”

Thinking quickly, she replied, “Oh, um, well I just realized I’m going to be late, but—”

“Where do you need to be? I’ll take you there,” Vadix responded, already cleaning up the weapons bench and locking everything up. He practically dragged her to the door.

Cass tried to slow him down. “You really don’t have to do that. You’ve been stuck with me all day and I’m sure you need a break.”

He stopped and looked at her. “Do you not want me to?”

The hurt in his voice was nearly masked. Nearly. The sound of it was impossible to ignore. “No, no, that’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t want you to feel obligated.” _Quite the opposite_ , she thought. _I’d much rather spend time with you_.

“I don’t feel obligated,” the turian assured her. “I want to.” Staring at her, he seemed to be asking for permission.

Holding his gaze for a beat longer, she agreed, “Alright. Then you’re coming with me to Purgatory.”

On the way, Cass tried to prepare her friend for their arrival as the women waiting for her were a lot to take in for someone familiar with humans. For someone who had only recently been initiated, they might prove to be too much.

“The four of us used to work together, the same shift at Flux, that’s how we met. Kimi, Anara, and Dier. Now it’s just me and Anara. Well,” she stopped to correct herself, “I guess it’s just Anara now that I’ve left to help Commander Shepard. She’s probably gonna be pissed at me, but she’ll get over it quick enough. That’s just the way Anara is, very volatile with her emotions. Dier can be a bit ditzy but she’s actually very sweet. And then Kimi, well, she’s very forward, not afraid to pursue what she wants, when she wants it,” Cass ended carefully.

Normally she preferred to not say anything before introducing two people she knew. It seemed fairer to let each draw their own conclusions about the other, without having heard what she thought of them. But in this situation, she realized, Cass felt somewhat protective of Vadix. She didn’t want him to feel overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

But that seemed almost inevitable the longer she thought about it.

As they walked, the conversation remained easy, quickly moving to discussing their work histories: his eight years with Citadel Security after graduating from the academy, her over ten years at Flux (given her probably-illegal start date when she was not quite 15 years old), and his future aspirations to join the elite turian military.

“And what about you? If you could do anything, be anything, what would it be?” Vadix asked her, sincerity etched in his brow.

“Ah, well, that’s a tough one to answer,” she dodged the question. Before he could push for more, looking up Cass realized they had arrived. “Here we are!” she exclaimed, perhaps too enthusiastically. She hurried to find her girlfriends and the turian easily kept pace with his long stride.

He must’ve picked up on her reluctance to discuss her career goals because he let the subject drop.

“ _There_ you are, bitch!” someone shrieked from nearby.

Kimi’s dark bob of hair swung and stopped fiercely. Her gloomy green eyes, shaped like a sunset on a distant horizon—which Cass had only seen in vids—had shrunk to slits as she lasered in on their uncharacteristically tardy friend. “About damn time,” the dark-haired woman complained loudly. Her hot pink mini dress was even louder.

Dier, as usual, remained unruffled and perky, much like her recently enhanced breasts whose areolae peeked over the top of a plum-colored strapless dress, likely a purchase from before the procedure. “Oh Cass, it’s been too long, like always!” she cried while kissing her on both cheeks, the blonde’s thick curls engulfing her own straight red locks. _She might already be a little drunk_.

As she pulled away, Dier paused, staring down. “Damn, girl, your tits look amazing! How did you manage to get so much cleavage in a dress without any support at all? S’like magic!” The woman, with no inhibitions, stroked the crease between Cass’s boobs, made largely bare by the deep cut of her painted-on dress.

Cass gently stopped her hand with her own before the blonde could feel her up too thoroughly. “Dier, you’ve asked me this before and the answer is still the same: it’s not magic, it’s just an organic adhesive,” she answered distractedly. Cass was still more worried about the last member of their party.

The light purple asari faced purposefully away from Cass, sporting a black halter crop top that compressed her chest down and outside the confines of the fabric. Her long ombre skirt swished softly, as if she had only recently turned around.

“Anara,” Cass tried reaching out. The asari shrugged the human’s hand off her shoulder. “Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Still, no response.

Groaning inwardly, Cass tried again with a different tactic. “First round’s on me, girls!”

Anara instantly shifted enough to meet her eyes. The asari’s glare, set beneath a deep purple facial tattoo of a complex array of circles, slowly morphed into a resigned grimace. “This better be good,” she muttered before striding into the club.

“It will be,” Cass murmured calmly, trying to reassure herself now as she ushered the other two women through the doors.

Dier toddled in obediently, but Kimi stayed resolutely in place. “Girl, wait. Who’s this handsome piece of ass?”

With a start, Cass remembered her turian, entirely forgotten in the clamor.

Except not forgotten enough, based on the nervous look he was throwing her way as Kimi eyed him savagely.

Hurrying to save him, the redhead answered, “Oh this is Vadix, my coworker. We just finished work. He was just walking me here before he goes home. We had a long day.”

Unfortunately, Kimi was not the type to take no for an answer when she wanted a yes. She latched on to the turian’s arm. “You must stay for a while!” she insisted, batting her eyelashes at him as she pressed as much of her flesh as possible against his body.

Vadix responded before Cass could make an excuse for him. “I wouldn’t want to impose on girls’ night,” he stammered.

“Please,” the dark-haired woman asserted, flicking her hair. “The only imposition will be if you leave now: we were just getting to know each other,” she pouted, successfully pulling his attention toward herself.

Cass felt a sudden rush of irritation. Normally the other woman’s advances on anything with two legs and a working dick didn’t bother her.

But Vadix was _her_ turian.

She wasn’t about to let her so-called friends taint him, or, even worse, seduce him.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Kimi. We have an early morning meeting tomorrow. He needs to get some rest.” Cass implored, watching the other woman icily.

A low hum emanating from the turian caught both of their ears. When she looked at him, he was looking over her shoulder, eyes tracking something behind them. “You’re right, Cassana,” Vadix announced. “We do have that thing. So I think I better stay and make sure you get home at a reasonable time.” Then he took two steps forward, Kimi in tow, grabbed Cass’s arm, and hauled both of them into the pulsing lights and sounds of the night club.


	19. Flirted, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Cass was out of her mind with anxiety: this was going to be a disaster. She never should’ve let Vadix walk with her tonight.

But she’d been too selfish to say no when he offered.

Because he said he wanted to spend more time with her.

Well, at least he wanted to walk with her to her destination. That was still a good thing, right? Even if it was only because of some absurd need for chivalry.

And now, here he was. The poor thing would have to suffer through Kimi’s overt sexual advances and Anara’s distrust and thinly veiled sarcasm. At least Dier wasn’t likely to make him uncomfortable. Well, not on purpose anyway.

Glancing around, Cass spotted Anara at a booth near the dance floor. The asari was scowling but waving to get their attention. That was a good sign at least.

With some effort, she managed to pull the turian and baggage in the right direction and then she split off to head for the bar. After all, she had promised to buy the first round.

The turian behind the bar flashed his razor-sharp teeth at her as Cass approached. “What can I get ya?” he drawled.

Instinctively, she brightened at his smile. “Five shots of asari hard liquor, please.”

One brow plate raised in surprise. “That’s some heavy stuff. You sure about that, honey?”

“Positive. I need something to take the edge off before things get started tonight,” she admitted.

He nodded as he prepped the glasses. “Not your go-to crowd?” the bartender asked, peering over her shoulder.

“That’s one way to put it,” Cass agreed drily.

The man’s teeth flashed again, one mandible exposing them. “Well it looks to me like at least one of them can’t wait for your return,” he muttered. His voice held a strange, aggressive edge.

Cass snorted, “That’s because I’m the one buying the drinks.”

“That’s one way to put it,” he repeated, meeting her gaze with an unasked question. Then the turian shrugged and looked away, passing her the drinks. Swiping her credit chit with a word of thanks, the woman walked back to the booth, curious about the exchange.

Dier squealed upon seeing the shot glasses and Cass wondered belatedly if she should’ve started with something softer. But Kimi was already handing them out.

Vadix picked his up gingerly, holding it up to the light as if he were dissecting it. “I think you better take this one too, Cassana. I want to keep a clear head.” The white turian offered her the tiny glass. Before she could probe, he merely shrugged a shoulder and said as explanation, “Chalk it up to officer’s training.”

“You’re in law enforcement?” Kimi crooned, still gripping his arm. “That’s so sexy. So badass.”

Cass couldn’t stop herself from glowering at the other woman. _How are we even friends?_ she wondered to herself. Without waiting for anyone else, she quickly downed both shots.

This evening could not be over soon enough.

But how to bring about a sooner end?

Normally they each left separately, once they’d found a lover if they were so inclined, or else when they were too tired or drunk—or both—to think straight.

So, what she needed to do was either get them all plastered fast or get them all laid.

If she could get them on the dance floor, the latter option would be a piece of cake.

“Come on, girls!” she declared. “It’s time to get up and move!” Cass pulled Anara and Dier out with relative ease but Kimi was another story.

“You bitches go ahead,” she whined. “I’m not done here yet.”

Before her blood could really boil, Cass huffed and walked away. _Vadix is an adult_ , she reminded herself. _If he really wanted to leave, he could. He has more then fulfilled his gallant “duty”_.

And watching Kimi throw herself at him would only make Cass more angry.

So, instead, she strode away with the other two women, determined to draw some attention of their own.

And that they did. With the music pounding in their ears and reverberating through their bodies, it was all to easy to lose themselves in the beat. Cass knew there was something almost magnetic about a person who just didn’t give a fuck, and it was nights like these when she most channeled that mentality. Soon enough the three of them were ensconced in the center of a crowd, surrounded by the press of bodies, many alien from her own yet the feel of them was somehow familiar and comforting.

Having no idea how much time had passed, Cass chided herself for the worry over Vadix that pricked her conscience. She didn’t have any real claim on him and she certainly didn’t own him. Besides, he hadn’t even bothered to follow her. Maybe he was enjoying himself back at the table. If he was into women like Kimi, that was his prerogative.

She grimaced at the thought and decided it was time for another drink. Miming to Dier and Anara her intentions, Cass slipped out of the throng toward the bar.

“One Perfection cocktail, please,” she ordered, gripping the edge of the counter.

The same turian from before barely looked at her as he finished mixing something. As he handed the glass to Cass, he finally made eye contact, and his green eyes seemed to crinkle. “Back again, I see,” he probed. “I gotta say, you’re the most suitable consumer for that drink.”

The woman paused, one eyebrow raised with the glass. “How do you figure that?”

Ignoring another customer for a moment, he continued to focus on her. “You’re the closest thing I’ve seen to perfection in the human race,” the bartender purred, leaning toward her as he tipped the glass toward her mouth with a single talon.

With the rim on her lips, Cass admired the man flirting with her. His light grey face was unmarked, save for a smudge of red on his chin, with matching brushes of color across both mandibles. Dark, fathomless eyes peered at her, tempting in their depths.

“Sadly I’m too unfamiliar with turians to know what perfection in your species would look like,” she murmured before gulping down the drink. Then, placing the glass on the counter, she met his eyes again before continuing, “Perhaps you could further my education.”

Unlike a human, whose eyes might have flashed with a sense of victory, the man across from her remained unaffected. Almost. His mandibles gave him away, sucked in toward his face.

A slow smile curled across her own lips. “I’d like another drink,” Cass whispered, still staring at him. “And I’m not the only one.” She gestured toward the other people crowded around the bar, and the other bartender glaring at the turian in front of her, and he looked away, accompanied by an almost inaudible sound, a sort of groan. Wordlessly he made a second cocktail before turning toward the other waiting customers.

“Well that’s no fair,” Anara complained suddenly in her ear.

Cass startled, nearly spilling her drink. “Shit, girl, you scared me!” Turning to face her friend, she wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed. It depended entirely on the asari’s current mood.

At least she had the decency to look slightly sheepish. “Sorry, but you’re over here drinking and flirting, and you left me on the dance floor with Dier’s sloppy seconds,” Anara pouted playfully, though the human knew she was only half joking. The blonde woman did have a tendency to get the most attention, something which did not please the asari when she “saw him first”.

“You could’ve come with me right when I left,” Cass reminded her. “But now you’re here, and I’ll bet my new friend would be happy to give you something good.” Tipping her current glass back, bottoms up, she quickly drank the strawberry liquor. Then she leaned back over the counter, consciously gripping the edges next to her rib cage and keeping her arms tight against her side, knowing the motion would display her breasts to their greatest advantage.

From the corner of her eye, Cass noticed several humans farther down the curved counter noticing her. She grinned: mission accomplished.

When the attractive bartender returned, she watched his eyes, drawn to her exposed flesh. Once more his mandibles pulled in tight to his face and he cleared his throat. “What’ll it be, ladies?”

The asari next to her scowled, but one corner of her mouth was tipped up so Cass knew she wasn’t actually mad at her “performance”, as Anara would call it. “Two of the strongest thing you can mix,” she replied, winking at her human companion who rolled her eyes teasingly.

Dipping his head, the turian offered an alien grin and began reaching for several bottles behind the counter. While he worked, the girls turned to face the masses.

“You know you’re not the only one with boobs, right?” Anara scolded, good-naturedly.

Cass flicked her hair over her shoulder, playing it up. “I may not be the only one with boobs but I’ve still got the best ones.” Pulling her shoulders back, she thrust her chest forward, chin held high.

Staring pointedly at her breasts, the asari said nothing for a moment, then sighed mockingly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. Bitch,” she muttered under her breath, smiling again. “Just don’t tell Dier. That most recent procedure is excessive if you ask me, but hey, if she wants boobs bigger than a man’s hand, I think she’s more than accomplished that by now.”

Shrugging, Cass made a counterpoint, “Maybe she just doesn’t want them to bounce when she’s on top. You know how hard she likes to ride.”

Anara snorted. “Goddess, you’re right!” Shaking her head, she continued, “In all seriousness though, what’s got into Kimi? She’s even more of a pain in the ass than normal. It makes me want to strangle her.” The asari made claw hands in the air.

Now the human smirked. “Glad it’s not just me. I was just thinking earlier, how did we ever become friends? She’s kind of the worst.”

From their spot at the bar, both women could see the booth they’d started at, still occupied by their dark-haired ex-coworker and the turian, disguised in the low light. She was practically in his lap, yet he seemed unmoved. But maybe that was only wistful thinking. It was hard to tell in the dimmed lights.

“Ladies,” the bartender announced behind them, plopping four tall glasses onto the counter. He picked one up and handed it to Anara, warning aloud, “Drink with caution.” Then he handed one to Cass, along with what felt like a flexible credit chit. Before she could question him about it, the turian had already turned away, striding down the bar.

Cass rolled her eyes, holding the hardened rectangle in the air between herself and the asari, fanning them with his personal omni-link encoded into the card.

“Damn,” she sputtered. “Why is it that I’m always the last one to get some?” Anara moaned, following the complaint with a long swig of her drink. “Damn!” she exclaimed again. “He wasn’t kidding!”

Raising an eyebrow, the human gave her a look. “You did ask for it, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the asari muttered. “But back to business: what’s the deal with you and this guy you brought? I saw you taking shots with your eyes at Kimi, so don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

Cass held her hands up in surrender, still holding her drink. Before responding, she took a sip from the glass. The liquid burned going down and she blinked back a couple of tears. “The hell is this,” she cried.

“Told ya,” her friend teased, taking another long gulp. Cass could usually hold her own when it came to alcohol, but Anara was in a whole different league.

The human sipped a little more, stalling, thinking how to explain not only her friendship with Vadix but also her new job. Then she swallowed, and started speaking, deliberately. “Well, he _is_ my coworker. We were both asked to do some consulting work and it’s pretty time consuming. We spend all day together basically.” _Vague_ , she thought. _But it’ll have to do_. Cass continued before the asari could probe for work details. “I mean, I haven’t known him for very long and he is so not my type, but…” she trailed off.

“But you like him,” Anara finished the sentence and her first drink, meeting her gaze.

Cass nodded slowly, admitting it to her friend and to herself.

“So why are you letting Kimi walk all over you?” the asari asked bluntly as she picked up the second glass.

Worrying her lip between her teeth, Cass shrugged. “He probably isn’t interested. He hasn’t made any moves toward me, and I feel like turians would be pretty forward, considering how aggressive they are in other aspects.” Saying it out loud made her sad: she couldn’t pretend anymore.

Anara gaped at her. “That is so racist!”

The human did a double-take. “Excuse me?”

Still staring with wide violet eyes, she stated incredulously, “Just because they’re aggressive in battle does not mean they’re aggressive when it comes to relationships! On the contrary, in my experience most of them don’t know the first thing about romance. They barely even know what they want!” she ranted. “How has it been for you?”

Now she blushed. “Well, I’ve never been with a turian,” Cass whispered, embarrassed.

The asari’s mouth dropped open. “You’re shitting me,” she protested, but Cass shook her head. “By the Goddess…” Then she stood up straight and drained the rest of her drink. “Finish that,” she demanded, pointing at the glass in Cass’s hand before turning around, trying to catch the bartender’s attention.

A couple of tears escaped as she drank the last drops of the potent mixture. When she turned around, Anara was leaning toward the turian, one hand on his shoulder as she murmured in his ear. _What is she up to?_ Cass fretted internally.

Just then two human men approached. Her anxiety level increased as their distance decreased. “Buy you a drink?” the closest one offered, resting an elbow on the countertop next to her. His brown eyes had swept up her body in one quick motion, stopping only when they met her own.

Anara stepped in before Cass could get a word out. “Sorry boys,” she said unapologetically. “Her boyfriend is the bartender so you’re out of luck tonight.”

The chocolate eyes turned to look at the purple asari, now roving up her form. Anara smiled like a predator and added, “But it looks like I’m fresh out of alcohol, myself. What’s a girl to do?” She sighed dramatically.

Both strangers drew closer to the asari, vying for her attention. Anara, mood flying high with liquid spirits, placed an inviting hand on each man’s chest. “Perhaps we could work out an arrangement,” she offered with allure as her fingers explored, drifting steadily southward.

“Even better,” the dark haired one agreed, his tone matching his locks. “Your turian-loving friend probably couldn’t handle us anyway.”

“Excuse me?” Cass said for the second time that night, cocking her hip and shoving the offender in the shoulder. “I’m not sure _you_ can handle _us_.”

Slowly he turned his head, hair dragging over his eyes, to look at her again. Unlike his friend who had been quick in his visual assessment, this one evaluated her body with hunger, greed. Leisurely he looked her down and up, then took one long step toward her, until only inches separated them. “Prove it,” he dared.

He may have towered over her, but that fact alone made him cocky. And Cass knew just how to exploit that. Now she took a small step forward, closing the distance, as she placed a hand over his cock. “Shots,” she challenged simply, stroking down and up once, just like he’d done to her with his eyes.

Then she turned away and ordered two rounds of six shots each. When she whipped around again, the green-eyed man was standing behind Anara—very close behind her. With one hand on her thigh under her skirt and the other just below her boobs, it looked like they were already starting foreplay. _The_ _horndogs_ , Cass mentally laughed.

Looking back at the dark haired one, she noticed with relish her handjob tease had done the trick. Smirking at him, Cass explained the simple rules. “First one to finish all six wins.”

“What’s the prize?” he countered unblinkingly, eyes dark with lust.

Once more the asari beat her to the punch. “Loser has to dance on a table for one whole song,” she suggested, grinding into the human behind her for effect. Not that he complained.

Cass shrugged once, nonchalant. “Fine by me. Think you can handle it, honey?” she pushed again.

“Oh, bring it on,” he asserted, rolling his shoulders.

They took their positions and her fake boyfriend counted down.

At zero, they both rushed to drink the alcohol in front of them. Quickly, all twelve shots had been consumed, and they looked to the bartender for the final decision.

“Sorry, baby,” he grimaced. “But he barely beat you to it.”

The human man crowed, both hands lifted high above his head, gloating in his victory. His green-eyed friend raised his arms for a double high-five, Anara pressed between them. Cass noticed with satisfaction that the asari took advantage of the situation, holding the light-haired one by the neck to keep him close and gripping the boner in front of her. The woman licked her lips hungrily.

Cass whistled under her breath, “Damn.”

“Your friend is very…assertive,” the turian murmured, also watching the threesome waiting to happen.

“You’re not wrong,” the human agreed. Then she turned away from the spectacle. “Thank you, by the way. Mind if I ask your name?” Cass blushed.

He chuckled, “Yeah, I guess you should probably know that if we’re dating. My name is Duron. And you are?”

She blushed again, “I’m Cass.”

“And you, my friend,” Anara said, hugging her friend behind, “have a date with that pole over there.”

Cass turned, exasperated. “There was nothing about a pole in this agreement.”

The lilac asari shrugged. “No, but a plain old table isn’t enough for you, bitch. Now go show them what you’re really capable of!” Laughing, she slapped the human woman on the ass, urging her forward, pointing to the pole in question.

Rolling her eyes, she made a face at her friend. But then, in reality, she wasn’t upset. Pole dancing was probably her favorite form of exercise. Trying to hide her eagerness, Cass strode across the dance floor.

As she approached the tabletop, she felt several eyes on her back. Patrons were allowed to make use of the space, after all. Most people just didn’t.

But Cassana Arvius was not like most people.


	20. Flirted, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Vadix tried to pay attention as he escorted Cassana to the club, but he didn’t understand why she was telling him about these past coworkers of hers. And he’d always had a hard time focusing when the reason for knowing something wasn’t readily apparent. Perhaps this was normal conversation between two friends—he just had no baseline with which to compare.

When they switched to talking about themselves, their pasts, and their hopes, he found it much easier to remember what she was saying. His human companion was far more interesting than the ones he had yet to meet.

As they approached the club entrance, a shrill voice called out, “ _There_ you are, bitch!” The dark-haired woman was practically growling, and Vadix recalled that Cassana had described one as “forward”—this was probably her.

The next woman was already a bit tipsy, which the ex-law enforcement officer honestly found a bit concerning. It was all too easy for creeps to take advantage of intoxicated individuals and, though he didn’t know her personally, he felt more protective of the human with pale hair knowing she had a connection to Cassana. The turian observed with mild interest as she embraced the redhead then noticed loudly, “Damn, girl, your tits look amazing! How did you manage to get so much cleavage in a dress without any support at all? S’like magic!”

_‘Tits’?_ , Vadix wondered absentmindedly while he watched with rapt attention as the light-haired human caressed the spherical bulges on his coworker’s chest. This was even more perplexing to the observing man. Of course he had heard the term before, often accompanied by what he considered disrespectful catcalls, but the only time he’s actually seen one of these exchanges, the woman in question had been a walking sketchbook, every inch of her skin inked in various shades of grey; since then, Vadix had always assumed the word “tits” was the human-slang version of “tattoos”.

But Cassana had no discernable marks on her skin, neither purposeful nor birth-given.

Turned out he was wrong. Again.

Humans were so alien.

A faint hum caught his attention and Vadix realized he’d lost track of the conversation. Looking around, his gaze met the dark green eyes of the overly aggressive one. She eyed him hungrily as she demanded of their mutual friend, “Girl, wait. Who’s this handsome piece of ass?”

She hadn’t broken the eye contact yet, so the turian did, glancing at Cassana with mild anxiety. He may be a predator biologically, but his instincts told him this human was of a different breed entirely.

“Oh this is Vadix, my coworker,” Cassana explained. “We just finished work. He was just walking me here before he goes home. We had a long day.”

Vadix hadn’t realized he’d wanted to stay until she dismissed him so easily. The rejection hurt.

However, the other woman had a different idea. “You must stay for a while!” she pleaded, leaning into him uncomfortably.

He couldn’t look at her or his subvocals would rip out of him with embarrassment. “I wouldn’t want to impose on girls’ night,” Vadix stuttered, staring wide-eyed at his friend.

“Please,” the dark-haired one whined. “The only imposition will be if you leave now: we were just getting to know each other.” As she spoke, her unseen hand found the top ridge of his hip and rubbed the sensitive spot on the back. The turian’s eyes whipped to her face, unsure if he wanted to vomit or ravish this stranger on the ground.

The sudden foreign sexual drive surprised him enough to get him thinking with the right head once more, instead of the head of his cock. Clearing his throat around vibrating vocal cords, Vadix looked over at the redhead again.

She did not seem pleased.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Kimi,” she stated evenly. “We have an early morning meeting tomorrow. He needs to get some rest.”

The turian was more than willing to agree if it meant he could get away from this animalistic human. But looking over Cassana’s shoulder, he noticed several _individuals_ —he wouldn’t call them “men” at the moment—eyeing his friend with the same hunger he’d seen in the gaze of this strange woman. _Kimi_ , he reminded himself.

Seeing their predatory looks, the protective urge which he’d felt earlier for the pale-haired woman amplified into an overwhelming sensation. Before he could register what he was saying, Vadix replied, “You’re right, Cassana. We do have that thing. So I think I better stay and make sure you get home at a reasonable time.”

A strange look crossed her face and then quickly disappeared. Without a word, she turned around and stalked into the club.

The turian suspected she wasn’t happy he had stayed, but he’d be damned if he let anyone take advantage of her.

Although she appeared to have some savage tendencies, Vadix towed a limp Kimi in the redhead’s wake, determined not to lose the latter human. He followed her to a table where they were reunited with the other two women— _spirits,_ he’d forgotten their names—and then Cassana disappeared before the turian could react.

Casting around for her, he resolved to pursue the illusive woman. But the forceful woman sitting next to him physically pulled his face toward her own. Biting her lip, she stared intently at him.

“Oh, give it a rest, Kimi,” the asari across the table snarled.

Kimi looked away and stuck her tongue out in response. “You’re just jealous because I saw him first, Anara. That means he’s mine.”

The thought brought back his previous premonition to retch.

The asari—Anara, he prompted himself—saved him. “If that’s the rule you want to follow, then he belongs to Cass.”

This thought was much more pleasant, and he felt it echo in his abdomen. Anara snickered, giving him a knowing look, and Vadix felt his mandibles flutter rapidly with mortification.

The humans at the table glanced between the asari and the turian, not following the unspoken communication. Then Anara rolled her eyes and made a small pointing gesture toward the bar. Vadix followed the invisible line she’d drawn and (finally) found his objective.

Cassana was facing away, speaking with a turian behind the bar. For no logical reason, Vadix felt his metaphorical hackles rise as their eyes met over the woman’s shoulder. The stranger looked away and said something to the human— _his_ human, Vadix thought hostilely—and shrugged a moment later.

Vadix looked away when Cassana turned around, not wanting to get caught. The purple woman across from him caught his eye again and raised a brow, observing far more than the humans at the table.

The turian could only pray that she wouldn’t say anything to Cassana.

When she arrived with five shot glasses, Vadix felt his anxiety spike. He couldn’t protect anyone if he became inebriated too.

The woman next to him quickly passed a single shot to each person and Vadix eyed his with something akin to suspicion, explaining, “I think you better take this one too, Cassana. I want to keep a clear head. Chalk it up to officer’s training.”

He felt his subvocals threatening to make an appearance, defensive instincts on standby. _Just play it cool_ , he pleaded with himself.

The dark-haired human scooted yet closer to him. “You’re in law enforcement?” she purred. “That’s so sexy. So badass.”

_No one has ever described me that way_ , Vadix thought, impassive from mild shock. He didn’t know what an appropriate response would be. Expressing gratitude seemed arrogant, but so did denying the statement. Compliment?

Instead, as usual, the turian remained silent.

After all, it was only awkward if you made it awkward.

But then, he had a tendency to do exactly that.

Seeking escape, Vadix looked down at the table and noticed Cassana had already finished both glasses.

He’d been right to worry. He didn’t know what kind of drink it had been, but all the same the woman was a danger to herself if she continued drinking like that all night.

“Come on, girls!” her sudden exclamation startled the turian. “It’s time to get up and move!” She pulled the asari and the pale-haired human—Anara and Dier—out of the booth.

Kimi again had other ideas. “You bitches go ahead. I’m not done here yet.” When she turned her gaze toward his face, Vadix felt his mandibles flutter wildly again. Only now he wasn’t sure if it was due to embarrassment or fear: the woman was positively terrifying.

Cassana left without another word.

And Vadix already missed her presence.

Granted, he would’ve missed her no matter the circumstances, but the fact that she’d left him with a hungry human was especially hard to swallow.

He tried to follow Cassana with his eyes but soon she and the other two women had delved into a crowd and Vadix lost direct sight of them. Occasionally he would see a flash of flame that was probably her hair, but he couldn’t be sure.

The turian also wasn’t sure how long Kimi sat in silence before she began the hunt.

First she shifted from gripping his arm to stroking it, thankfully over the fabric of his casuals. Then her other hand was crawling up his spine. This was all easy enough to ignore—until she pulled on his fringe.

Clearing his throat loudly, Vadix pushed down the need that suddenly ground into him, sliding away from the offending caress.

“You know,” Kimi began, eyes cast down toward the newly developed space between them, the angle greatly displaying the strange hairs which sprouted from her eyelids. Something about it made the man feel more inclined to listen. “I’ve been with turians a couple times before, but there’s still one thing I want to try, something I’ve heard rumors about.”

As the human trailed off, slowly her gaze edged up his body. Vadix expected her to meet his eyes but she stopped a moment before, fixated on his mouth.

“Rumors about your tongue.”

It felt like his heart skipped a beat. **_My_** _tongue?_ he objected, but only internally as the infernal organ of which she spoke seemed to have suddenly gotten twisted in the back of his throat.

Now her hands returned to his arms, stroking slowly upwards.

“Rumors about your sinful tongue.”

Reaching his shoulders, her palms continued up his neck and onto his face, drifting ever so gently against his mandibles toward his paralyzed mouth. Her sudden softness surprised him.

“Rumors about your sinfully slithery tongue, that it can make a girl come without any extra stimulation.”

With concentrated intent, the woman dipped her thumbs into the surprised space between his upper mouth plate and jaw, nicking the corner of a tooth.

Quickly she drew back her hands, biting the injured finger, and met his eyes with her own, emanating with what Vadix perceived as malevolence.

“You bit me,” she complained darkly.

The turian denied this but Kimi cut him off. “Now you owe me,” she threatened. “And I want my payment in the proof of these rumors. I want to know if they’re true or not, firsthand. I want you to go down on me, right here, right now. And I _always_ get what I want.”

Casting around madly, Vadix tried to dissuade her. “They’re not true, can’t be.” To be entirely honest, he had no idea what she was talking about: coming, stimulation, going down—it was like a foreign language. Yet, like a foreign language, based on her facial expressions and tone of voice, he knew he didn’t want to find out, not from her.

He’d have to remember to thank Cassana for teaching him about facial expressions.

Hell, he’d have to remember to ask her what exactly going down had to do with coming.

A firm talon on his shoulder startled him. Before he could turn around, he heard an alto voice, as firm as her hand, say from behind him, “I think you’ve got this turian confused with another, girl. That’s my boyfriend you’re trying to seduce.”

Lucky for Vadix, he’d turned away from Kimi before the shock registered on his face. The turian gripping his arm gave him a pointed look and he interpreted the meaning with ease: it’s your funeral if you mess this up.

_How do boyfriends act?_ he worried, hoping for some quick inspiration. In the end, Vadix fell back on the only “experience” he had. Trying to imitate his father, he placed his own talon over hers and squeezed as he murmured, “What a surprise to see you here, darling.”

The turian woman gave him an odd look, half endearing and half bewildered, before she leaned in to rub one of his mandibles with her forehead. “Yes, I forgot to tell you I’d be here. You must have come with coworkers?”

Wow, she was good, Vadix thought. Or was it normal for turians to hang out with coworkers outside of normal working hours? Either way, he agreed, “You guessed it. I was just getting ready to leave but I’m so glad you found me first.”

At this he stood, having been released from the vise-like grip of Kimi the human at some point during the conversation with his fake-girlfriend. Smoothly she threaded her talons through his then tugged him toward another, darkened booth across the club.

Settling into the seat across from his savior, Vadix opened his mouth to express his gratitude. But the woman beat him to the punch. “Well, well, might be out of the firing range and into the firefight for you. You owe me,” she repeated Kimi’s earlier warning, face blank.

Before he could go into red alert mode again, she laughed heartily and slapped his forearm resting like a deadweight on the table. “I’m only teasing you. Spirits, you need to lighten up. What’s your problem anyway?”

A moment passed before he believed she wasn’t pulling a prank on him again. Clearing his throat, he tried to explain, “I’m sorry, I don’t normally do things like this.”

“Well of course not!” the stranger exclaimed. “I also don’t regularly go around pretending to be someone’s girlfriend. The Goddess knows I’d be a terrible girlfriend.” She grinned widely, then pivoted. “I need a drink. I’ll get you one too.”

She was gone before he could start his protest.

Now that he was alone, Vadix realized just how long he’d been out of solitude today. His normal routine, prior to this week, meant he’d been in the company of one or two other people during his work day, and he spent some time with one or both of his parents in the morning and in the evening. It could’ve been a lot of interpersonal interaction—and perhaps should’ve been—but he’d been a loner and kept to himself for as long as he could remember.

_Wait_ , he thought. _Why was a turian using an asari expression?_ Pondering this, he decided to ask her when she got back.

While he waited for his ‘girlfriend’ to return, he looked around the club from his new vantage point, searching for Cassana. The turian woman sat down while Vadix was peering intensely at the mass of people on the dance floor.

“So what’s your story?”

Her question broke his focus. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” Vadix didn’t think she wanted his life story, but wasn’t sure which specific part she wanted to know.

“You know, what brings you here tonight? I can’t imagine you’re actually coworkers with that ninny,” the red turian clarified, tossing her head condescendingly.

His brow plates drew together, uncertain how to explain. “No, I only met her earlier tonight. I did come with a coworker though, a mutual friend.”

The woman across from him nodded her head slowly. “I see. What do you do for work?”

Now Vadix hesitated. He didn’t want to lie, but he also wasn’t sure if he should tell the truth. Cassana had been pretty cagey about it earlier. He decided to follow her lead. “C-Sec,” he answered haltingly.

One of her brow plates raised in question. Before she could challenge his honesty, he asked, “Why did you use an asari expression?”

Tilting her head, the woman paused to consider her answer. “I suppose that’s a natural thing to be curious about. I’ve done a lot of liaison work with the asari and must’ve picked up some of their mannerisms and idioms.”

“Wow,” Vadix breathed in wonder. “I didn’t know that was something a person could do.” Suddenly his understanding of the universe seemed infinitely small.

The other turian chuckled in response. “Well now, I think a person could do just about anything they set their mind to. But knowing some key people certainly never hurt,” she winked. “Aren’t you going to ask me my name?”

The topic change surprised him, and he realized how rude he was being. “Apologies, ma’am. I can’t believe I haven’t introduced myself already. My name is Vadix Ramraka. And, you are?” he dipped his head slightly in respect.

Whistling softly, the woman grinned at him. “That was mighty flowery, Officer Ramraka. Or is it detective?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’m Juvelea Optiril.” She placed her forearms on the table between them, palms up and talons extended.

Vadix looked at her in confusion, unsure what she was doing.

Her mandibles wafted gently as she instructed him, “Put your hands out in the air above mine, palms down.”

Doing as he was told, quickly she gripped his elbows with her talons and used her chin to indicate he should do the same. She leaned toward him and he imitated that motion as well.

A strange yet comforting sensation started at the point where their foreheads touched, and Vadix felt it stretching down throughout his body. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the feeling intensifying with the added air.

Juvelea broke the contact without warning, her mandibles now fluttering nervously. “Sorry,” she muttered gently.

“For what?” Vadix wondered aloud. “It’s not like that was painful or anything.”

Wincing, she looked away from him and replied, “Because I shouldn’t have used you without permission.” Then she glanced up at him once, appearing smaller than she had before. “I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known, you know.”

“Known what?” Now he was even more confused. _I’ll never understand_ _women_ , he thought miserably.

Again she titled her head, perplexed. “That was your first time, wasn’t it? Your first imbra. I could tell, but it took me longer than it should’ve. And your first shouldn’t have been a fake.” It sounded like she was chastising herself.

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” he groaned quietly, and she looked at him more clearly, with some alarm.

“You don’t understand why it was fake or you don’t understand imbra?” she tried to clarify.

Vadix replied sourly, “Both.”

Her alarm became more apparent and Juvelea pressed a talon to each temple, staring at him silently. Finally she spoke, ending his current uncertainty. “An imbra is a turian embrace, a custom usually only observed by serious couples. That’s what we did just now, linking hands to elbows and touching foreheads. I’m surprised you’ve never even heard of it, given your maturity,” she trailed off, watching him with curiosity. But she held her own questions to finish answering his. “And it was fake because we’re not actually dating. I only did it because I noticed my ex, who was noticing me. It’s been nearly a year and I didn’t want him to think I was still holding on to any sort of hope for him.” Again she trailed off, but now she was looking away, staring at nothing on the wall.

Thinking over what she said, Vadix felt no regret. “I don’t mind,” he said softly, uncertain how to explain himself to the turian who had been a stranger not too long ago, yet now seemed somehow familiar. “I don’t mind that my first was fake,” he continued. “Because I probably wouldn’t have learned about it any other way. And because I’m glad to be able to help you, even if I didn’t know I was doing it.” His eyes met hers, which were glittering with gratitude. And something else.

“I just don’t understand it, Vadix,” she opined. “How can you not have shared an imbra—not even know what it is!—when you’re obviously a perfectly eligible bachelor.”

He knew she didn’t mean it as an offense, but the man was suddenly reminded of what set him apart from the rest of his kind, his fatal flaw, and he felt his face transform into an ugly grimace. “How can you not notice,” Vadix growled savagely, turning away from her kindness. “The evidence is on my face.”

Juvelea reached out, pulling his chin toward her so he was forced to meet her eyes. “The only evidence I see,” she stated emphatically, “is your generosity and good heart. You may be the best man I’ve met in a long time, Vadix Ramraka.”

He waited for her to deny it, to take it back, to admit she was only joking. But her gaze remained steady.

“I’d like to see you again,” she murmured, far more hesitant than the moment before, releasing his face from her talons.

But Vadix didn’t turn away. Nodding slowly, he responded without overanalyzing for once, “I think I’d like that too.”

Sudden raucous applause drew their attention away from their secluded corner of the club. Vadix thought he could just make out what looked like drunken dancing on a tabletop on the far side of the room. The crowd cheered loudly again, drowning out the sound of the song which had just begun.

Scowling heavily, the turian turned back to his conversation partner, someone who was not only far more interesting than inebriated buffoons but who was also miraculously interested in him.

But Juvelea was still watching. She pointed with a talon, saying, “That woman looks like she can barely stand, let alone dance.”

The white turian rolled his head. “An unfortunate state of being, to be sure. But that kind of spectacle is to be expected in a setting like this, I suppose.”

Humming in agreement, the woman continued to stare. “She’s not half bad though. Better than some of the asari I’ve seen. And I’ve seen my fair share,” she winked at him. “Look at her.”

Sighing, Vadix acquiesced and again faced the crowds, jumping to the rhythm of the music. A lone human gripped a pole stretched between the tabletop and the ceiling, sliding up and down with lithe grace.

And then she spun, her hair a flame ripping through the air.

“Fuck.”


	21. Bruised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

To the shrieking sound of her alarm Cass awoke with a splitting headache, amplified by the artificial light of her apartment when she opened her eyes. Next to her bed was a glass of something runny-looking and a couple of meds. After slowly sitting up to consume these with gratitude, she thought of how much foresight she must’ve had the night before to prepare for the inevitable hangover.

Except she didn’t remember putting them on the table.

In fact, she couldn’t remember anything from last night.

Scouring her memories, the last thing she could recall was a hazy conversation with Anara followed by an interaction with a couple of strangers. Pushing through the pounding in her skull, Cass reached for more details. Yes, there was a bet of some kind, one that she’d lost… She thought there’d been a large amount of cheering, but that couldn’t have accompanied losing that bet, whatever it was.

Still in bed, she lay motionless with her eyes closed, hoping more specifics would materialize and fill in the blanks.

Of course she’d been drunk before, and there had been a couple times when she’d had recall issues because of it, but never to this degree. Now it was like the entire previous night had been erased from her memory.

Too bad she couldn’t go back in time and erase other nights from her memory.

Finally, Cass eased up into a sitting position and looked around the room for clues. Aside from an empty glass next to the fridge, it somehow felt tidier than normal. Yet she couldn’t quite pinpoint what exactly had changed.

And trying to drudge up more details was only making her head hurt even more.

Resigned to her fate, the woman slouched out of bed toward the kitchen, noticing some abnormal tightness in the muscles throughout her body. Water and carbs, that was what she needed, even though it meant postponing and likely shortening her regular morning routine.

Water was easy to find, and Cass quickly drained two glasses of the cold liquid, feeling it shiver down her throat. Carbs, on the other hand, was more difficult. The fridge was nearly empty, a sign that she was neglecting her dietary needs. Searching the cupboards and drawers, all she could scrounge up was a couple of protein bars. Not the best option, but they’d have to do for now.

Based on the ache in her head, she decided not to turn on the bathroom light. Instead, Cass left the door open and used the ambient light filtering in from the main room to shower quickly. Pulling on a sports bra, a sweatshirt, and stretchy pants, she checked the time. Twenty minutes until she needed to be at the training room.

Cass dashed from her apartment, her hair limp from the recent cleaning. She paced quickly toward Citadel Security Headquarters and tried to tie up her hair as she went. Luckily she didn’t run into anyone she knew, and no one paid her much attention. For once in her life, she was able to blend in and go unnoticed—something she regularly sought to avoid.

When she arrived, Vadix was already there.

And with someone else.

_It must be the doctor Commander Shepard mentioned_ , she thought as she quietly closed the door.

She was a gentle-looking woman, small and unassuming. Silver hair framed her kind, lined face. Something about her instantly put Cass at ease, a thing not often achieved by medical professionals since she’d been a teenager. An orange square of fabric with black writing—SR-2, it said—rested on her upper arm, the only piece of color on the black and white uniform.

As she stepped into the room, cringing slightly at the bright lights overhead, the new woman glanced over at Cass and gave her a comforting smile. “Ah,” she said warmly. “You must be Cassana Arvius. Commander Shepard warned me of the similarities, but I must say: I am still very nearly shocked!” Stepping around Vadix who still faced away from Cass, the doctor continued, “My name is Dr. Karin Chakwas. I’m just here to do a routine physical for both of you, before you officially join the crew.”

Her voice was like a fountain, sure and refreshing, and her expression like a hot bath, pleasant and inviting. It was easy to see that she must’ve been a successful doctor, someone trusted and comforting, during all her years of service. If only all medical professionals were like that.

“I understand,” Cass replied, dipping her head respectfully.

Vadix still hadn’t looked at her.

The doctor smiled again and explained, “It just so happened that Officer Ramraka and I both arrived early so we’re nearly finished, then you and I will be able to begin, Ms. Arvius.”

Before she could tell Dr. Chakwas to call her Cass, the other woman had returned her attention to the turian. She was certainly focused on her work.

Cass turned away, quickly lost in thought. It wasn’t like Vadix to be so stoic with her. At least, not for the past couple days. Had she done or said something embarrassing last night? Or even worse, had she offended him somehow?

Cursing her own immature behavior, Cass walked to the padded mats where they had practiced hand-to-hand combat and began to stretch. She hoped the familiar movements would help dissipate the mild soreness lurking in her muscles along with the uncertainties and doubts floating in her mind.

Not long after she’d started stretching, the doctor approached her again. “Ms. Arvius, are you ready?”

“Yes,” she responded, pulling out of a toe-touch. “But please, call me Cass.”

Dr. Chakwas nodded her assent and gestured toward the back corner of the room. “When was the last time you had a check-up?” she asked.

Hunching over, Cass explained guiltily, “At least 10 years ago. I had a bad experience and just haven’t gone back…” _And even if I’d wanted to, I probably couldn’t afford it_ , she added miserably to herself.

Again, the doctor nodded knowingly. “I understand. It is unfortunate that not all medical personnel truly merit the title ‘professional’. How about I tell you about myself and my career as we go?”

“That would be nice,” Cass offered, still a little unsure but wanting to give this woman the benefit of the doubt.

“Thank you,” she said, and somehow it seemed she really did understand Cass’s worries and fears. “I’ve been an army doctor since I finished medical school. Can’t even count the years now,” the doctor laughed lightly. “I’ve patched up as many soldiers as I’ve met it seems, though the reason I joined was for the adventure. Funny how things never quite turn out the way you expect, yet even better in other ways than you’d hoped…” she trailed off.

Dr. Chakwas continued her examination and her explanation concurrently, checking her blood pressure, heart rate, and respiratory rate as she described what it had been like to join the Alliance fresh out of school. During the vision exam, she told Cass about the different planets she’d visited and the ones she would recommend to any exploratory traveler. Then she pulled out various tools to examine the eyes, ears, nose, and throat, and discussed the purpose and function of each before using any. The doctor also tested her motor functions and reflexes, applying pressure to several joints to ensure they were working as expected.

Unlike her last trip to the doctor, Cass felt completely comfortable. Although she had just met this compassionate woman, it was easy to see that she truly cared about the people in her care, that no one was expendable or meant to be used and then tossed aside.

“Very good,” Dr. Chakwas stated, standing up straight as she finished checking Cass’s stomach for abnormal growths.

“That’s it?” Cass asked brightly. It was much less intrusive than she’d expected.

However, the doctor grimaced. “Not quite,” she explained. “As you’ve not had a physical done for some time, I need to do some additional exams pertinent to your sexual health. But I’m not going to force you to submit to these examinations. Only with your knowing consent and understanding will we proceed.” Dr. Chakwas continued to look her in the eyes, firm yet full of empathy.

Now Cass paused, again uncertain and untrusting. “Why is that necessary for this kind of work?” she asked, stalling more than anything.

“Excellent question. It’s to establish a baseline of where you’re at before you enter on duty, or EOD. Should you experience any permanent negative effects because of your service, you can be compensated accordingly. At least as far as the Alliance is concerned. When it comes to a normal routine physical examination, it’s to ensure that you are as healthy as can be. Should something abnormal be discovered, it can be treated right away, rather than allowing it to grow into something unmanageable.”

Cass looked at this human woman, searching for any signs of deception or deceit.

Finding none, slowly she nodded. “Very well. I agree, and I trust you to do your job.”

Gingerly the doctor placed a soft palm on Cass’s cheek. “Thank you for trusting me,” she whispered.

As instructed, Cass began to remove her outer clothing. Then stopped, glancing around the room. If she somehow hadn’t embarrassed herself last night in front of Vadix, she didn’t want to start now.

“It’s alright,” Dr. Chakwas explained. “I told him to leave and come back after lunch. It’s just you and me right now.” Again, she smiled and there was something about her that made Cass feel like she was dependable. And based on experience, Cass knew to trust her intuition.

When she stood in just her undergarments, the other woman’s professional stare darkened. “When did this happen?” she asked quietly, pointing to a bruise on her upper arm. Three long thin purple lines stood parallel to each other, pointing toward a single violet circle on the inside of her bicep.

It was the first time Cass had seen the mark. “I don’t know,” she stammered, shocked. While it was the first time she had seen this particular bruise, it was not the first time she’d seen the shape. The thought brought back difficult memories.

Dr. Chakwas’s eyes flicked to hers and then back to her upper arm. “It looks recent,” she began, holding back the questions Cass knew she wanted to ask.

Now their eyes met and the patient sat down heavily with a sigh to match. “It wasn’t there yesterday, but,” Cass started, suddenly afraid to tell the truth.

The kind older woman sat down next to her and covered Cass’s hands with her own. “Take your time,” she offered softly, looking at their entwined hands.

_This is the kind of person I want to be_ , she realized with a start. And then she couldn’t contain the words she’d held in all morning, now that she had someone in whom to confide. “That bruise wasn’t there yesterday but I can’t remember much of what happened last night. I know I had a lot to drink but I didn’t think about how quickly I was intaking the alcohol. I do recognize that shape, thanks to a toxic relationship that lasted far longer than it should’ve, but I don’t feel any particular soreness anywhere. I do have a sort of general ache all over, like I did a full body workout and didn’t realize it. I don’t think it was a sexual assault, whatever it was, but how am I supposed to know?” By the end of her monologue, Cass felt positively hysterical.

The doctor sitting next to her hummed comfortingly and pressed Cass’s head onto her shoulder, rubbing her arm soothingly. “If you’d like, I can check for vaginal signs of assault, although there are no guarantees that there would be evidence to be found. It wouldn’t be any different for you than the routine examination I described previously,” she paused, now stroking the red hair falling around her shoulder. “As for the memory loss, I’m afraid there’s no fix for that, only prevention of additional episodes. That ‘blackout’ effect tends to happen around when a person’s blood-alcohol content hits 0.15, though it can vary from person to person. Drinking a large amount in a short period of time does cause blackouts more often because your body doesn’t have time to process the alcohol. Other than avoiding alcohol in the future, I would recommend asking trusted friends and family to see if they can help you piece together what happened. That might give you some closure, at least.”

Cass nodded, fighting inexplicable tears. She didn’t cry often, but then she also didn’t often drink so much that she forgot entire memories, and she didn’t often worry about being raped without even knowing it.

Dr. Chakwas slowly stood up and began to set up some equipment at the end of the weapons bench, now covered with a large piece of plasticky-looking paper. Cass realized it was an ad hoc exam table. Now she was especially thankful that Vadix was gone and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. After all, she was about to display her vagina to the one-way glass.


	22. Remembered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

He knew it was cowardly, but Vadix was relieved he didn’t have to face Cassana that morning. He didn’t even have to see her, really. After everything that had happened the previous night, their budding friendship seemed to have taken a very different turn from the direction of their other interactions. It had been completely unlike all his prior encounters with her—and with anyone, for that matter—leaving him feeling very confused.

And to top it all off, he was keeping something from her. Lying, truly, if he didn’t glaze over the facts.

It was tearing him apart inside.

But the turian knew he’d have to talk to her eventually. Probably sooner than later. Dr. Chakwas had dismissed him until after lunch, and his time was nearly gone. His food, on the other hand, was not. With thoughts churning in his head, Vadix was too busy worrying to eat.

Was this normal for other people? Did everyone have moments like this in their relationships? Or was it just him? Maybe he was broken and it was all his fault. Maybe he was simply overreacting and nothing would change at all.

Still, he couldn’t get that image of her out of his mind. She’d been so vulnerable, sincere yet adrift. Cassana had been the complete opposite of, well, Cassana.

It unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

Resigned to confronting her, Vadix made his way back to their training room. He kept his head down, fearing a follow-up confrontation with old coworkers. Not that he couldn’t handle it, but it would only make the change in his human friend’s demeanor all the more apparent, given that she wouldn’t even be present to defend him.

And if she were present… well she probably wouldn’t want to defend him once he told her the truth.

When he opened the door, he could see her sitting in the center of the floor, on the mat where they’d practiced for so many hours. She was hunched over, and appeared to be chewing almost mechanically, seemingly deep in thought. The woman didn’t even look up at the click of the lock as they were shut into the suddenly suffocatingly small room.

Vadix paused by the entrance, unsure whether he ought to interrupt her reverie or leave her alone. He’d often heard that women—of all species apparently—were prone to sudden mood swings, often volatile and inconsolable. Perhaps this was one of those, he mused uncertainly, and maybe last night was too.

Steeling his nerves, the man took several determined steps forward, intent on ripping the bandage off, so to speak. But then he faltered, again unsure. Of what he was unsure, Vadix couldn’t explain even to himself. He felt unsure of his own motives last night, both before and after rescuing the human now before him. He felt unsure of her desires and intentions, unclear and inconsistent as they were to him.

Maybe most of all, he felt unsure of his place in the universe and what right or claim he had to pursue the things he most wanted. Cassana had been the first, besides his parents, to treat him the same as any other turian, to see him for who he was on the inside and not just what he presented on the outside. What if her change in behavior was really a change of heart?

Out of nowhere, Juvelea’s alto voice strummed his memory. ‘ _I’d like to see you again’_ , she’d said.

A mere week ago, Vadix would have given almost anything to hear those words from another member of his race. And now that he’d received that long-sought gift, he should be grateful, rejoicing even, not pining for the unpromised devotion of an unpredictable human.

Again, the turian felt torn between what he _thought_ was right, and what he _felt_ was right.

As luck would have it, the choice at present was taken from him. Finally noticing him, Cassana broke the silence with a soft, “Hey.” Briefly lifting her head to look at him, the turian recognized that subtle blush, made all the more striking by the contrastingly pale skin surrounding her cheeks: although he didn’t know exactly how a healthy human should look, he knew she did not look well.

“Cassana!” he exclaimed, forgetting his earlier concerns. “Are you alright? You look terrible.”

The woman scoffed, but it didn’t sound like her heart was in it. “Gee, thanks,” she mocked, him or herself, Vadix wasn’t sure. “I’m fine, just been doing a lot of thinking, and remembering. Remembering some unhappy memories…” Trailing off, she looked away and Vadix was at a loss for words. This wasn’t at all what he’d expected. Was last night really so unhappy for her?

_Now what?_ he thought perilously.

The quiet continued to stretch while he puzzled over it. Should he just leave her alone entirely? Did she expect him to say something in response? Was this supposed to be a conversation? Or maybe he’d offending her by commenting on her appearance. That seemed like a definite possibility, the turian considered.

As his anxiety climbed, his subvocals began to whine. Hearing his discomfort vocalized only served to add to the stress Vadix felt, then increasing the pitch further. If he couldn’t get his emotions under control, soon the sound would enter human hearing range and then he’d be absolutely mortified.

Shifting his feet, the man seriously contemplated fleeing the scene.

But the movement must’ve broken her trance and Cassana jumped. To Vadix it looked like a cringe, and he cursed his own ineptitude.

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” she stuttered softly. “I don’t remember what we were talking about.” Meeting his eyes with her grey ones, the human looked even more lost than she had the night before.

“Speaking of not remembering, actually,” Cassana continued, looking away as she forced some strength into her voice. “I need you to do me a favor. See, I had too much to drink, too quickly, and my memory of last night is basically gone. Do you think you could fill in the gaps for me?” In earnest, again she met his gaze, and now she seemed more like herself: resilient and fierce.

Now Vadix looked away, afraid she’d see too much in his face, and tried to wrap his brain around this sudden miracle, as unfortunate as it was for Cassana. Maybe he could fix his mistake, go back in time, as it were, and change the past.

He could tell her the truth without her knowing he’d kept it from her in the first place.

But did he want her know? Vadix himself still didn’t know what to make of it all. And besides, he was as confused by his feelings for Cassana as he was by those for Juvelea, new as they were. Did he really want to mix the two together?

Then again, Cassana was far more experienced in these matters, so maybe she could help him, especially now that he knew that was one aspect of her “consulting”. Surely she wouldn’t mind helping him out. They were friends, right? And wasn’t that what friends were supposed to do?

But what if some tiny part of this human woman could someday share a mutual affection with him? Wouldn’t telling her about another woman ruin any chance of that? Probably, Vadix admitted to himself.

So, the question was really this: was it more likely for things to work out with Juvelea—a member of his own species, someone who innately understood his culture, upbringing, and habits—or did he risk it all on the minute chance that Cassana, a woman with eons more experience than he, could possibly be interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with an awkward, fumbling turian who was a virgin in every sense of the word?

Put like that, the answer seemed obvious.

That decided it: he was going to have to come clean.

Turning to face her again, Vadix realized he hadn’t responded to her plea, and he had far exceeded the allotted time for a normal reply. Now the human was looking at him with raised eyebrows, a question clearly on her mind.

He beat her to the punch. “Sorry, yes, I can do that, not a problem,” the man answered, hoping she wouldn’t ask him why it had taken so long for him to respond.

“Are you sure?” she asked, tone biting from sarcasm. “You seem pretty reluctant to me.” Pausing to glare at him, Cassana continued, “Look, I know it was irresponsible of me and I will take full blame for my actions. It was stupid and I should know better, I know. You can punish me all you want, if it’ll really make you feel better.” By the end of this rant, she’d hunched over again, arms folded, looking away from him. Vadix thought she looked like a pouting hatchling, and the comparison made him grin.

If looks could kill, the turian would’ve been vaporized. “What’s so funny?” Cassana sneered.

_Spirits, she’s practically venomous at this point_ , Vadix thought. Out loud he said simply, “You.”

At this she merely scowled and turned away from him again.

With a sigh, the man sat down on the mat a few feet in front of the adult woman masquerading as a sulking child. “What’s the last thing you can remember?” he prodded gently.

“This turian being an asshole—sound familiar?” she snapped.

He knew it was supposed to be a jab at him, but that was what he’d thought last night too: how ironic. But he decided the best option at this point was to let her calm down. If he was going to tell her about Juvelea, Vadix figured it was best if she weren’t snarling already.

Now they sat in silence, the woman’s emotions in near palpable turmoil. It was an odd sensation for the turian. Although he’d experienced his share of negative feelings, Vadix couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so conflicted. Either he was sad or mad or neutral, never everything all at once. The thought reminded him of that first time he’d studied human facial expressions. He’d told Cassana that he was convinced humans felt a wider range of emotions than turians, and Cassana had said maybe they only expressed a wider range. This settled it: the alien species must actually feel more too.

Eventually the emotional waves crashing mere feet in front of him calmed to a more even rise and fall, and then continued to calm until they were like the longer wavelengths of communication transmissions. Only then did she speak once more. And when she did, it was in the soft, low voice of her darkest memories: “The last thing I can remember solidly is standing at the bar with Anara. We’d just left the dance floor because Dier had started getting jealous. I know there was some sort of interaction with two strangers which led to more drinking, but the details are hazy. After that, the next thing I can recall is waking up in my bed, feeling at home but also disoriented.”

Nodding slowly, the man thought about how to respond. “Okay,” he said. “That means there are some gaps I won’t be able to fill in for you. Have you tried contacting Anara?”

Cassana pulled her knees to her chest, clinging to them with her arms and hiding her face. “I sent her a message but she hasn’t responded yet. She’s probably still asleep, and then won’t see it until after work probably. If she does then. She’s the worst at digital comms,” the human moaned, beginning to sound distraught.

The turian stretched his arms toward her, gently rubbing her elbows. “Hey, it’s okay,” he tried to console her. “We’ll figure this out. I’m sure you can get all the pieces and put them together.”

Still looking into her lap, she shook her head and wailed, “But what if something bad happened? I won’t even remember it, and it’s not like I could find the person who—” She broke off, and it sounded to Vadix like she was suddenly choking.

It was even more concerning than her distress.

“Cassana! Breathe, hey, look at me, look at me,” he implored. _Don’t stop breathing, don’t die, keep breathing_ , he willed.

Finally she did, and clear liquid streamed from her eyes. The sight jarred Vadix mentally, reminding him of that ‘sweat’ debacle. Was this another strange human _thing_? Maybe sweat was for working out physically and whatever-this-was, was for working out emotionally?

Despite the odd and somewhat grotesque spectacle in front of him, Vadix maintained eye contact with her, staring into Cassana’s grey eyes, watching the clouds of her soul gather and deepen and dissipate and lighten. Bit by bit, she seemed to gain more control over herself until the expunged liquid-emotions stopped.

_She blinks a lot_ , he thought distractedly. _Maybe her eyes are too wet_.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Cassana tried to smile. Only half her mouth could rise to the occasion. “Sorry,” she apologized, voice tinged with embarrassment. “I’m just so worried about what might’ve happened. But,” she took a deep breath, “I have to keep reminding myself that Dr. Chakwas didn’t find anything concerning. I don’t know how I got home, but at least I must’ve been alone, thank God.”

The turian cocked his head. “No you weren’t,” he contradicted her. “I was with you.”

“You were?” she exclaimed. “Why? What happened? Why didn’t you say so already? Did we—” Again she stopped mid-sentence, head tilted down but looking up at him, asking a question with her eyes.

Vadix had no idea what her eyes were trying to ask him. “Did we what?” he asked instead, feeling stupid.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if we did. That would explain why there was no evidence…” she trailed off, cheeks now bursting with color, nearly the same shade as her hair.

It made her look even more attractive, and once again the turian was distracted.

“Vadix!” she interrupted his thoughts. “Just tell me: did we, or didn’t we?”

He could only blink at her. “Cassana, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Will you just let me tell you what happened? Don’t you want to put all the pieces together?”

Pouting overtly at him, she replied, “Yes, fine, keep your secrets for now.”

The turian narrowed his eyes at her, confused. “But I’m trying to tell you, and you keep veering us off course.”

She rolled her eyes at him, pointedly. “Go on, then.”

He opened his mouth to begin, but then she mumbled an afterthought, “Part of me hopes we did, but part of me doesn’t: that’s something I’d want to remember.”

Glaring at her, Vadix asked, “Are you going to let me tell this story or not, missy?”

“’Missy’?” she giggled. Seeing his expression, she pulled her own into a contrite look. “Fine, fine, sorry. Please continue.”

“I hadn’t even started yet,” Vadix rolled his head. The woman was as infuriating as she was cute.


	23. Touched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

“After you left me at that table, at the mercy of Kimi,” the turian shuddered, “I lost track of you. Even though I was trying to keep an eye on you, it was difficult. I’d catch an occasional glimpse of your hair but then you were gone again.”

Vadix shrugged and Cass thought that was all he was going to say. “That doesn’t fill in any gaps for me!” she cried in frustration.

“That’s because I’m not done yet!” the man yelled right back, glaring at her. The sight was both a little scary and a bit of a turn on.

Cass felt her blush deepen, remembering he had just said that he’d taken her home. “Oh, right,” she mumbled, chagrined.

Letting a moment of silence punctuate his displeasure, Vadix continued to glare at her and Cass felt like he was undressing her with his eyes. She could feel her core tighten in anticipation and had to remind herself that they were at work, after all. _Dammit_ , she thought, _why am I so horny?_

Finally the turian broke the quiet and brought her back into the conversation. “Eventually I heard some sort of commotion coming from the dance area. Looking around I could see someone with red hair,” his eyes bored into her, “on a tabletop, gyrating around a pole. I couldn’t see for sure, but something in me knew that it was you.”

It was only too easy to imagine. While she had never actually been employed as an exotic dancer, she’d met plenty of them through work and they had taught her a thing or two or twenty. Cass had enjoyed it immensely but something about getting paid for her body had never sat well with her—ironic given her side gig, at least from an outside perspective.

“You looked really drunk,” Vadix continued bluntly, “but you didn’t appear to be in any danger then, so I didn’t intervene. But at least I’d found you again. After that it was easy to keep track of you.”

“Wait,” Cass interrupted. “Were you with Kimi that whole time? Did she make you very uncomfortable? She does have a tendency to do that, I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t think how to get her away from you and I was honestly so mad at her that I wasn’t really thinking straight,” she finished apologetically.

She’d expected him to be irritated with her again, but surprisingly the turian now smiled. “I’ll get to that. You asked me that last night too. You really do have a one-track mind, don’t you?” His laughter was something to be prized, like seeing an actual sunrise: so simple, yet so singular because it wasn’t something everyone could experience.

Vadix resumed his story. “After the song ended, you managed to get down off the table and returned to the dance floor.” Now his expression turned stony once again, and Cass dreaded the censure she was sure would come. “You had many admirers, but one in particular was especially noticeable to me. Everyone who approached you, it looked like you basically said ‘thanks but no thanks’, then you’d turn back to Anara and ignore them. This guy just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Seated in front of her, the turian had let go of her elbows some time ago and now rested his knees against the inside of his arms, hands held loosely in front of him. Vadix was looking away from her, seeing the memories of last night which Cass so longed to learn.

“At first,” Vadix explained, voice tight, “he seemed to follow the same pattern as all the others but when you must’ve turned him down, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his space. That alone made me want to race to you and rip his throat out,” the turian murmured darkly. “But then Anara and several others nearby were able to separate you from him and he seemed to disappear. I breathed a sigh of relief from my vantage point across the club.”

Before Cass could interject, the man continued. “But shortly thereafter, this same guy returned. Only this time, he was much smoother, not so forceful. You seemed to tell him no but by then the invitations had slowed down and you didn’t have to put as much thought into it. Everyone seemed to have gotten the picture. Everyone except _him_ , of course.” Once more, her friend’s voice sounded ominous. The sound nearly gave the woman shivers.

The turian stopped, seeming to gather his thoughts or rein in some strong emotion. His talons, suspended between his knees, tightened into a fist, tips glistening sharply. Cass waited, breathing as softly as possible while analyzing not only his words but also his expressions: it just wasn’t adding up to what she’d expected from the man in front of her.

“I don’t know if you actually said no this time, or if he thought your denial was too soft to be serious, but whatever happened he stuck around. He stayed close to you and to Anara, appearing to be interested in both of you equally. But then Anara was distracted by some other guy, a human, and then this one pounced.”

It was all sounding very animalistic to Cass, and she wasn’t sure if it was merely the storyteller’s personal context coloring the narrative, or if it had indeed happened so intensely.

“The turian,” he suddenly spat. “He came up behind you, didn’t look like he even said anything to you, and just, touched you.” The formidable tone Vadix used didn’t make sense with his words.

“Wait,” Cass stopped him. “What do you mean, ‘touched’ me? I’m sure the previous people must’ve done so as well. That’s just how it happens at a club.”

Closing his eyes, Vadix didn’t respond. Instead, Cass watched a single drop of navy liquid drip from his clenched hands.

“Vadix, you’re bleeding!” she exclaimed, reaching toward him.

The moment she touched him, he exploded from the ground, stomping toward the punching bag. This he slammed into with both fists, muttering something the human couldn’t hear.

His violent reaction surprised her, much like his earlier ease had. The turian’s mood swings were hard to keep up with, made worse because she didn’t understand why he felt the way he did.

Now Cass stood and paced softly to where her friend now stood, breathing heavily with palms splayed against the swaying plastic. “Hey,” she murmured, placing her hand gently on his forearm. “Vadix, I’m here. Whatever happened, I’m okay, no permanent damage, see?”

She willed him to look at her and, after a couple brushes of her thumb back and forth across his sleeve, her wish was granted. Cass had intended to reassure him with her eyes, but now she was taken aback by the depth she saw in his. It was both raw and powerful, aching and on fire.

Before she could react he’d swept her into his arms, pressing her body against his—thankfully unarmored though still rigid—one. It was like the air was being pulled straight out of her lungs.

Feeling weak, the human sloppily tried to get his attention with actions, slapping his chest with the back of her hand caught between them. The other, trapped at her side, could barely reach the crest of his hip. This she pinched, beginning to feel faint.

Abruptly, and with a snap of teeth, he released her, quickly moving away. He continued to watch her from a crouched position, his eyes now passionate yet perplexed, but no less potent. “Why did you do that?” Vadix challenged.

His voice seemed to have altered its timbre, the startling shift pulling Cass off balance mentally. “You were crushing me, and I couldn’t breathe. I was just trying to communicate that to you but couldn’t use words.” His reactions, both conscious and not, puzzled the human. Why the change in his voice, and what had she done that made him so upset? She searched his face for answers.

Vadix closed the distance between them in two long strides, gripping her upper arms with his own outstretched talons. He seemed to be searching her face for answers too, and for a moment neither spoke.

“Never do that again,” he threatened in a low—sexy, Cass thought distractedly—voice. The demand was uncharacteristic of him, and she didn’t even know what it was she should avoid. Before she could defiantly voice her opinion on the matter, Vadix said one more word. “Please.” Here, his resolve seemed to break, and the menacing gaze he’d thrust upon her shattered into one of beseeching.

“Okay,” was all she could utter in response to his vulnerability.

Nodding once, the turian released her and again turned away. Allowing him a moment to gather himself, Cass pondered over the strange exchange. After all, she’d only smacked his chest and squeezed his hip. During all of their training, the human had hit him in the chest many times and not once had he responded in this manner, so it had to be the hip thing. Was that taboo, like touching another human’s genitalia without permission? Or perhaps it was painful, like poking a person in the eyeball? Maybe it was even something pertaining to his religion?

It seemed she still had a lot to learn about turians.

Eventually Vadix turned around again, looking sheepish. “Sorry, er, where were we, exactly?” he asked awkwardly.

“Uh,” Cass responded, inarticulate. Quickly she ran through backwards what had just happened. “Oh! You had started to bleed,” she remembered. “Are you alright?”

“What?” the man barked, seemingly in disbelief.

Cass pointed toward his hand but saw no proof of injury.

Vadix lifted both hands to inspect each and hummed. “Oh, I suppose you’re right. Must’ve broke the skin with my talon on accident. It’s fine though, only a scratch.” Shaking his head as if to remove the memory, the turian continued, “I think I had been trying to tell you about this incessant suitor on the dance floor.”

The human snorted at that. “Really, ‘suitor’?” she asked, incredulous. “He was probably just trying to get laid. But according to you, that didn’t work out with me for him, now did it?” Cass laughed, but noticed the darkness returning to her friend’s expression.

“No, no it really did not work out for him,” he murmured.

It almost sounded like Vadix had killed the poor man.

“Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad,” Cass tried to soothe him. “You still need to explain what exactly he was doing. ‘Touching’ isn’t really specific enough.”

Mandibles fluttering wildly, the man looked away. “I, uh—” he stopped, then tried again. “That is, well, it’s—” Once more he froze, then seemed to resolve himself to the task. Speaking quickly, Vadix tried to explain, “One hand on your chest and one hand on your leg.” As he called out each half of his sentence, the turian pointed a talon toward the associated body part.

He was still feet away, and Cass was only slightly less confused. “Maybe it would be easier if you just showed me?” she offered.

Scowling, Vadix threw his arms up in the air. “Can’t we just move on?” he complained, pacing away from her.

“No,” the woman harrumphed, folding her arms and cocking a hip. She wasn’t going to let this go: she needed answers about last night, as much as she could get. Sure, she had just reassured Vadix that there’d been no permanent damage, but if he could tell her more, then more she would get.

He peeked over his shoulder at her, measuring her stance. Then, slumping his shoulders, he drooped back toward her. “Do I really have to show you?” he whined.

“Not if you can just tell me, in detail,” she allowed.

Vadix waffled for a moment, then seemed to stiffen with determination. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Turn around.”

Cass complied, feeling both curious for the sake of her lost memory and curious for the sake of having Vadix _touch_ her in a non-combative way. She’d long found him attractive, but it seemed nothing she did could puncture his professional—and maddeningly platonic—demeanor.

A moment passed, and then she could somehow sense him behind her, though he had yet to make any real, physical contact. Another agonizing moment later, and gingerly he held her wrists between his talons, lifting them slowly.

“You didn’t say anything about my hands,” Cass wondered aloud.

The turian cleared his throat, then explained, “Just, trying to be accurate. When he came on to you, your hands were in the air, above your head.”

Obediently, she kept her hands in place, feeling strangely vulnerable. Still, Vadix didn’t touch her.

Again he cleared his throat, loudly. “Well, you’re wearing different clothes. So I can’t do exactly what he did.”

“That’s okay,” the woman breathed, a hot flush creeping up her body. She could certainly imagine what a man would like to do with the skimpy dress she’d worn last night, with all that flesh exposed.

She could certainly imagine what she’d like the man behind her to do with it. With her.

The fabric of his casuals brushed against her own loose clothing, her back to his front, and then Cass watched his hands move ever so slowly around her body. One hovered over her left breast, the other over her right thigh.

Vadix froze.

The woman knew this was difficult for him, and, if she was entirely honest with herself, at this point it would only be manipulative to ask him to demonstrate further. She should really just let it go.

But the selfish side of her humanity won out, and she chose to manipulate the wholesome, ignorant man behind her.

“You still haven’t touched me,” Cass whispered, desperate hope bleeding into the edges of her voice.

With a grunt, Vadix closed the distance between their bodies. As his chest came into contact with her shoulder blades, the human could feel a slight vibration reverberating between their skins. But before she could ponder this phenomenon, his talons pressed softly into her front. Both thumbs rested vertically against her body, beside each pair of talons laid against her curves.

Cass suppressed a groan with difficulty, feeling her skin pebble beneath the turian’s gentle caresses. She closed her eyes and queried, greedy for even more, “What’s different between what you’re doing now and what happened last night?” Now it was her turn to sound husky.

In silent response, the trembling coming from inside the turian seemed to increase in tempo. Then he answered aloud with a growl, “His talons, Cassana. He got under your dress to touch your bare skin.”

Although he was describing an unwanted sexual advance—an assault, really—at present Cass could only picture Vadix touching her. The thought made her nipples begin to stretch, anxious, and she felt her panties begin to grow damp. One heartbeat later, the tip of one talon was shifted by her traitorous body, making room for her eager tits.

One more beat later, his featherlight fingers had pinched her nipple, covered by the thin fabrics of her shirt and exercise bra. The pressure, though faint, was more than Cass could have hoped for from her dreamy turian, and this time a moan did escape her lips.

At the sound of her arousal, the man behind her turned much harder, his reverberation deepening, his grip growing stronger around her upper thigh. Soon she could feel something new pressing into her from behind, seeming to grow in length, trying to push into her, instead of merely standing at attention. Cass had read about the differences in anatomy of the various species, but experiencing this particular difference was not what she’d expected.

Leaning back into him, the human’s hands brushed against his fringe, extending up into the air. _Vadix must have his head tilted down_ , she thought curiously before grasping his head crest between her fingers.

The turian made a guttural sound which seemed to echo next to her ear, and then his head flipped back, pulling his fringe out of her grip as he stepped away from Cass.

Both were breathing much more noisily than they had been mere minutes ago.

“Cassana,” Vadix began, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

His apology, though well-intentioned, she was sure, was like an ice cube rolling down her body. Cass was relieved she was already facing away from him; she didn’t think she could pretend the hurt of rejection away just yet.

“Anyway,” he tried awkwardly. “So, uh, yeah. That’s, uh, what he did.” His words sounded flat to the human’s ears. _Probably just trying to forget what just happened_ , she thought miserably.

He continued his story, oblivious to her internal pain. “After that I kind of lost it and, uh, punched the asshole.”

The statement brought Cass out of her woe and back to the issue at hand. “You what?” she exclaimed, whirling to face Vadix once more.

Now he looked embarrassed. “I guess I just felt really protective of you and didn’t want you to get hurt. So, I, uh, punched him,” the turian repeated.

Cass could only stare at him, mouth slightly agape. Did that mean he _did_ care for her after all?

“Right away, some burly looking guy in black showed up and told me to leave—he said he wasn’t going to ask nicely again.” Vadix chuckled at the thought. “You were just staring at me like I’d sprouted hanar tentacles, so I picked you up and walked out.”

Shaking her head, the woman stopped him. “Wait, you actually picked me up?”

Vadix shrugged, nonchalant. “Well, yeah. You were already starting to sway, and I didn’t want you to get lost on the way out. I wasn’t about to lose you again.”


	24. Fibbed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.  
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

“I can’t believe you manhandled me,” the human complained, pouting.

Vadix was perplexed. “’Manhandled’?” he asked. “But you’re not a man.”

Cassana snorted. “No, but you are. And you _handled_ me, just like that,” she emphasized. “So rude.” But she was smiling at him, so the turian thought she must not think it was that rude. Once more, he was reminded of how strange this alien species was.

“Well, yeah, I guess I did. But what else was I supposed to do? You were so out of it and I was not about to leave you there alone,” Vadix countered playfully, feeling like he was maybe starting to get the hang of this friendship thing.

Now she scoffed. “I was not alone! Anara was there with me, and Dier was somewhere I’m sure. Kimi is unreliable I know, but I wouldn’t have gone to her for help anyway,” the woman muttered, sitting back down on the mat.

“Maybe,” Vadix allowed. “But I didn’t trust them to keep you safe from predatory men looking to take advantage of a beautiful woman.” The thought again made him grimace as he took a seat next to the human.

His statement was greeted with silence, and the turian looked over at his companion. Cassana was staring at him with a puzzled look on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, feeling oblivious to something out of his mental reach.

Still, she looked at him with a question in her eyes. Opening her mouth, she paused, and then said, “You called me beautiful.”

The man wasn’t sure who was more surprised: him or her. “Yes, I suppose I did,” he murmured, thinking aloud. “Although I don’t have much of a baseline with which to compare, I’ve always found you very attractive.” Vadix gazed at her a moment, suddenly unsure. “Is that really so uncommon? I know I’m not good with human things,” he trailed off, noticing a strange emotion flit across Cassana’s face.

Slowly she shook her head. “Not uncommon,” the woman offered. “Just… unexpected.” With that same intense feeling, Cassana stared back at him, maintaining eye contact.

Vadix felt his subvocals begin to rise, straining against his determination to ignore his feelings for this fiery human. Soon, he couldn’t stand it any longer and looked away, willing his mandibles to still their frantic movements, betraying his unease.

The silence grew weighty, and the turian wondered how to begin the conversation after his unconscious blunder.

Luckily, the human was much bolder. She scooted closer to him on the ground then prodded him in the leg. “So you picked me up, and then what?” Cassana asked, curiosity shining in her eyes.

At this the turian chuckled. “So I picked you up and then I walked out of the club without a backward glance. I think Anara may have yelled something at me, but I couldn’t hear what she said. The quiet out in the halls was nearly deafening after the pounding music inside.”

Pondering how to continue, Vadix chose his next words carefully, speaking slowly. “You didn’t say anything for a while so I don’t know what you were thinking, but I was still cooling down after that…” he floundered for the right word, but the memory still just made him mad. The turian sighed forcefully and finished, “After that _guy_ assaulted you. But eventually you asked me how I’d managed to escape Kimi.”

He stopped again, trying to find a diplomatic way to explain what happened. After all, Vadix had decided to come clean about things with Juvelea. Not that anything had even happened. He really should’ve just been honest from the moment Cassana asked him about his evening. At least now he had the chance to make it right.

The woman next to him was less patient than she looked. “Well, how did you manage to escape?” she prompted eagerly.

Vadix looked at her, resigning himself to her disappointment. Then he decided he could tell her the truth, but he couldn’t do it while looking at her. Last night she’d been draped over his shoulder and eye contact had been impossible. Even then he hadn’t been able to tell her. Now, with a groan, he flopped onto his back, arms covering his face and eyes closed to his surroundings. “I was rescued,” he mumbled.

“Ooh,” he could hear the excitement in Cassana’s voice. “This sounds good. Tell me more,” she demanded.

“Well, first you have to know that I didn’t tell you this last night. I, uh, well, I lied to you.”

This declaration was met with silence, and the turian wondered what the human would do.

Hearing rustling next to him, Vadix nearly opened his eyes. But then her voice sounded in his ears, much closer than before. She must’ve laid down at his side. “Thank you for telling me the truth now,” Cassana murmured. “That’s what matters.”

The turian peaked one eye open. “You’re not mad?” he asked, astounded.

Now the woman shrugged her shoulders, lips curved into a gentle smile as she lay on her stomach, head turned toward him. “Everyone lies, but not everyone tells the truth.”

Lifting his left arm, Vadix gingerly placed his talons on her neck, trying to convey his relief and gratitude and finding words insufficient to do so. He could feel her fluttering heartbeat, almost concerning in its pace when compared with his own. Cassana closed her eyes as he brushed his thumb pad across her jaw.

“Thank you,” was all he could utter at the moment.

This time, the silence which settled over them was comfortable, even warm, like waking in the morning without a sense of imminent duty.

“As nice as this is,” the woman whispered, sounding half-asleep. “You still need to finish your story.”

Of its own volition, his hand had trailed down the human’s shoulders toward the dip of her back. Now Vadix snatched it back, worried he’d once again crossed some unspoken line with which he should be familiar. “Er, right, sorry,” he stammered.

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Well, last night, I told you I would only answer your question if you would answer one of mine—like that time we went to dinner and you tried to get to know me.” He smirked at the memory and his own ineptitude. “You said something about how that wasn’t any different than normal, but you agreed anyway. So I told you that I had left Kimi when I was too uncomfortable to stay any longer. Which, in a way, was technically true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.” The turian’s brow pulled together, his talons now interlocked behind his head.

“The whole truth is that I met someone. She rescued me.”

The recurrence of silences during their conversations was beginning to unsettle Vadix. This one was loaded, and he wasn’t sure whether to expect an explosion or if it would simply putter away.

And this time, Cassana didn’t put an end to the quiet.

When he could take it no more, Vadix closed his eyes the words began to roll off the man’s tongue, so quickly it seemed unstoppable. “Juvelea was her name. She was a turian, and the first one other than my parents to treat me like there wasn’t something inherently wrong with me. We just talked for a long time after she interrupted Kimi’s advances toward me, and she told me she’d like to see me again. And I said I’d like to see her again too.”

One beat passed in silence.

“Of course she’d like to see you again!” the human exclaimed, surprising the man yet again. “Did you get her contact info? If you want to see her, you have to do something about it.”

“You think so?” he questioned. Cassana’s reaction was nothing like he’d expected. But then again, he had no reason to believe that she had feelings for him the way he had for her. It was entirely possible that, as his friend, she simply wanted him to be happy.

“Of course!” she repeated. “You have a lot to offer, both as a friend—speaking from experience—and as a partner, I imagine.”

Again, her support was unexpected. Vadix had never had anyone verbalize such compliments to him. At the same time, her obvious lack of interest in him also hurt. There was no jealousy, no resentment. As much as he knew it was the better, safer option, some part of him had still hoped she could care for him, despite all the differences and obstacles. “Oh, well, thank you,” he mumbled.

“I guess it’s only been less than a day,” Cassana continued, unaware to his inner turmoil. “So you couldn’t have reached out to her already. But you should tonight! Oh, man, Vadix, I am so thrilled for you!”

The turian looked over at the human, now lying on her back next to him, but she wasn’t looking at him. She sounded very enthusiastic, yet the expression on her face was ponderous, like she was deep in thought. The contrast puzzled Vadix, but she said nothing more.

“Anyway, after I answered your question last night, I asked you what it meant to ‘go down’ on someone.”

The human made a short, strangled sound and sat up rapidly, coughing violently. Vadix also rose to a sitting position, worried Cassana was suddenly choking. “Are you alright?” he fretted aloud, one hand hovering over her back.

She nodded, but continued to cough, unable to speak for a moment. Then, recovering herself, she glared at him, intensity softened by a cheeky glint in her eyes. “You can’t just go around asking things like that!” Cassana cried, shaking with laughter. “Where the hell did you even hear that phrase?”

“From Kimi,” the turian said simply.

Groaning, Cassana put her face in her hands, still giggling slightly to herself. “Of course she did,” the human muttered. “What exactly did she say to you?”

“Um,” Vadix started, remember the discomfort he’d felt during that conversation. “Something about my tongue and her coming together?” Even after asking Cassana last night, the particulars of the mechanics were still a bit fuzzy.

Now the woman stared at him, aghast. “She did not,” she protested, face paling slightly. “Please tell me she didn’t—and that you didn’t!”

Shaking his hands vigorously in front of him, the turian reassured her, “No, no, no one went down anywhere.”

Snorting, Cassana rolled her eyes at him. “You clearly still don’t really understand the concept.”

With one raised brow plate, Vadix agreed, “No, though you did offer to demonstrate for me.”

The human’s jaw dropped open, slack with disbelief. Words seemed to fail her as her cheeks turned from colorless to crimson.

“Don’t worry,” the turian said, chuckling. “You were still suspended over my shoulder, but you did give me a rather detailed explanation.” His own embarrassment grew, and his mandibles shuffled in response. “I had no idea tongues could be so…versatile,” Vadix murmured, imagining what it would be like to employ his own mouth in such a manner.

Cassana remained speechless, her blush spread deep across her cheeks. “Damn. Remind me never to get that drunk again. I am absolutely mortified.”

Tilting his head, Vadix gave her an apologetic grin. “Well, that wasn’t all you told me…”

Her continued horror was reflected in the woman’s face. “I don’t want to know,” she whispered. “But I have to know.”

The man shrugged and gave her a playful shove. “It’s not so bad. After you finished explaining the ‘perfect method’ for going down on a woman—your words, not mine,” he winked. “You also told me about the time you taught a client this same ‘perfect method’, so that he could impress his long-time partner with something new. ‘In bed’. That’s another direct quote.” Vadix couldn’t help laughing at her expense: she looked like she’d been struck in the face by an elcor.

“Then you went on, with no prodding on my part, to tell me about how you started doing this kind of work; that it’s not _about_ the physical stuff, but that it’s a manifestation of internal issues and how that’s what you really want to help people improve. You were very passionate about it, and I was honestly rather impressed.”

Vadix watched her face as the humiliation morphed into something softer, shoulders soon following suit as she relaxed into the facts. He waited for her, until she managed to peer up at him once more, eyes peeking over her folded arms resting on her knees. “Is that it?” she asked timidly.

Rolling his head from side to side, the turian doubted whether to tell her.

Somehow she knew that he was still keeping something from her. “Just tell me,” Cassana sighed.

“Well, you also offered to help me practice, if I wanted a ‘trainer’… but you also told me you wouldn’t do it if I was dating someone else.” This statement had perplexed him when she’d said it, and Vadix was still confused: it wasn’t like she’d never taken on a client in an exclusive relationship. “What did you mean by that?” he wondered out loud.

He hadn’t expected an answer, but in response the human exhaled roughly, saying, “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were only thinking about another woman.”

Now it was his turn to cough, her words taking him entirely by surprise. The thought of _being_ with Cassana—he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word ‘sex’ in his head—was something so tempting, but so out of reach. It was unimaginable.

Vadix sputtered, reeling. “But, you said yourself you help people in relationships all the time. Why would it be any different with me?” He felt like he was on the brink of some great discovery, with no idea of how he’d arrived there. It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

Shrugging, Cassana answered, “Because you’re different.” She gazed at him from a couple handspans away, grey eyes alight from within and burning him from the inside out, like the sanctifying purge of a roiling volcano. “Because I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

Her answers provided little insight into his predicament, yet he felt like the woman was telling him something significant. Not for the first time, he cursed his own lack of experience and understanding. Was she saying that her consulting was business and he was _pleasure_? The idea was mind-boggling, impossible. Surely she meant they were coworkers so he was business, and her consulting was pleasure—an obvious recipe for disaster. Right?

The turian wasn’t brave enough to clarify.

Instead, he pushed past the burgeoning feelings, somehow nearly palpable and electric between them, and returned to his account of the previous night. “Anyway,” he stated, clearing his throat of raw emotion and desire. “Once we got back to your apartment, you told me with some slurred instruction to get you a water glass to drink then, and to make this juice mixture for the next morning. I put that and some meds next to your bed, and then you asked me to change your clothes.”

Cassana interrupted him, “What?” She was positively incredulous.

“I didn’t, I swear!” the man promised, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just retrieved some different ones for you and then closed my eyes while you changed. I think that’s what you had meant to say, but you were pretty out of it.”

Relaxing again, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Got it, thanks for interpreting my drunk brain.”

Vadix just nodded, afraid to upset her again.

“What then?” she asked, turning to him once more for answers.

“Well, I was going to leave once you’d settled into bed, but you asked me to stay until you fell asleep. So I did.” Shrugging, he hoped the human wouldn’t press for more details: Vadix wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the rest of the story.

Apparently that was enough to satisfy even Cassana’s curiosity. “Oh. Well okay then.” She paused, looking at him from the corner of her eye. “And thank you, Vadix, truly. I’m really glad we’re friends.” Then, unexpectedly, she leaned over and hugged him tightly. “It’s a relief to know that nothing scary happened last night, despite my lack of conscious thought. And I have you to thank for that.”

Her voice was muffled slightly as she spoke into his shoulder, clinging to his back like he was an anchor and she was lost at sea. Uncertainly, Vadix reached up and gently placed his talons on the woman’s back, palms flat against her shirt.

She had no memory of it, but it wasn’t the first time she’d embraced him like this. Vadix remembered last night, feeling guilty for keeping it to himself but also unwilling to share his own tender vulnerability.

“Please stay,” she’d asked him last night, pleading, begging. The helplessness in her eyes was what caught his attention. “I’m afraid to be alone,” she whimpered.

With a deep sigh, he sat next to her on the bed, careful to avoid settling on her limbs hidden beneath the covers. “Cassana, I would do anything you asked me to do,” he had admitted aloud.

After he was seated, the woman snuggled into him, guiding his arms to wrap around her as she leaned back into him, resting her head on his chest. “That’s so nice of you,” she yawned. “I don’t deserve nice.” Already she was starting to drift into sleep.

“Of course you do,” the turian encouraged. “You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.” He was flabbergasted at how critical she was of herself. If anyone deserved nice, it was Cassana Arvius.

Wobbling her head back and forth, she contradicted him, “No I’m not. You are.”

Vadix had chuckled, the movement shaking the human’s form slightly. “I’m the nicest person I’ve ever met? That doesn’t make sense.” At some point he’d started stroking her hair, and it felt even silkier than he’d imagined. He never wanted to stop touching this alien anatomy.

All she could muster was a lazy “mm-hm” noise.

“Go to sleep,” he’d whispered, coaxing her toward what he hoped was a restful state.

Surprising him with a reply, Cassana had sighed in response, “Okay, g’night, love you.”

Stunned, the man froze. Both his breathing and his motions stopped, until his brain could kickstart after this unexpected revelation. And although he couldn’t quantify the emotion, or logically explain the reasoning, he’d breathed his own response, “Love you too.”


	25. Justified

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.
> 
> 18 Jan 2021 Comment: sorry I didn't add a new chapter last week; I decided to try something different and wrote something unrelated to (and much less tame than) this story, posted as "An Unexpected Sentence". Feel free to check it out if you'd like. As for this story, the chapter below is shorter than most of the posts I've done but it felt like a good place to break. Will have more for you next week!

Having gotten the answers she was looking for, Cass was satisfied enough to begin training for the day. Granted, it was already half over—and then some—but better late than never, she told herself. Grinning at the turian seated beside her, she lightly patted his knee and stood, extending a hand toward him.

Vadix looked questioningly up at her, almost like he wasn’t really present mentally.

“I was gonna help you up,” she explained patiently. “You know, so we can get started for the day. Tomorrow is our last day after all, and Commander Shepard said she’d meet us here early in the morning. So tonight is really our only time to practice.”

Still, he stared at her hand. “You can’t lift me,” he finally stated the obvious.

Rolling her eyes, Cass shrugged. “Well, yeah, no. It’s like a symbol of friendship, or trust. It’s like saying, ‘I got your back’ or something.”

“Oh,” he murmured, understanding slowly dawning. Then he gripped her hand in his own, clambering to his feet.

The touch was harmless, nothing more than a handshake really. And yet the woman felt exhilarated.

Perhaps they’d made some progress together after all.

Of course, she still wanted him all to herself, but she was willing to bow out of the romance ring if he wanted to pursue that turian he’d mentioned from last night, Juvelea. Her name was pretty at least, sounded sort of like ‘jubilee’. Maybe she’d be able to offer Vadix some jubilee. Cass thought her friend deserved some more happiness in his life.

Even if she’d rather be the one giving it to him.

But, the human thought, better not to dwell on it. Better to do productive things to keep her mind off what she couldn’t have.

It’s what she’d always done.

“I’ve been practicing you know,” she reassured her tutor, shoving him playfully.

At this Vadix raised a single brow plate. “You have, have you? Well, let’s put this so-called practice to the test,” he drawled, a twinkle in his eye betraying his intimidating facade.

The pair moved into their defensive positions, and the combat training resumed. With feints and thrusts, dodges and advances, Vadix pushed Cass into physical exertion, though he showed no signs of feeling winded or tensed. The man was positively relaxed, constantly offering critique and advice, occasionally sprinkled with a compliment or simple encouragement.

Some time later, Cass began to feel the effects of their endless bout. She wasn’t sure how long they’d gone at it, but she was convinced it was well past dinner time.

Panting, she wheezed out, “Enough. I can’t, keep going.”

With an inquisitive look, the turian shrugged. “If you say so. I was just starting to feel it.”

Cass glared at him, feeling snippy. “Well, some of us haven’t been training like this since birth.”

“That’s not fair,” he frowned.

“Neither is expecting me to be on your level right now,” she snapped, bitter. “Or maybe ever.”

More than a little awkward, Vadix extended a hand toward her, resting his talons on her shoulder. “Hey, give yourself a little more credit. It won’t happen overnight, sure, but you’ll get to where you want to be. Long as you don’t give up.”

“I’m not giving up,” she whined, knowing that was exactly what she wanted to do in this moment.

Saying nothing, the turian simply patted her arm.

A moment passed, and a strange tension blossomed between them.

“I—”

“You—”

They both started speaking, then stopped, feeling awkward.

“You first,” Vadix insisted, apparently as gallant as ever.

Cass, however, wanted to know what he had to say, and shook her head vigorously, gesturing toward him wordlessly.

He cleared his throat first, then began. “I was just going to say that if you did stop training with me, well, I guess I’d be…” Trailing off, he seemed to be feeling for the right words.

There were a lot of things Cass thought he could be, but what did he think he would be without her?

“Sad, I suppose,” the man finally finished. “Though that doesn’t quite cover it.” His sentence implied there was more to be said, but he looked unwilling to express whatever feelings he was grappling to comprehend.

“Oh,” Cass sighed. “I’d be sad too,” she offered. “I’d miss you.”

Looking up into his face, Vadix looked down at her simple statement and their eyes met, his own lurid blue ones trying to communicate with her. Cass knew he’d see hers as they so often were, steely and overcast, protecting the remains of her inner stability from the near-constant threat of utter ruin and complete extinction. 

She almost opened the gates of her mental protection then and there, overcome with the yearning for companionship.

But Vadix stalled that desperate coup in its tracks—fortunately or unfortunately, she wasn’t sure. “Yes, that’s it exactly,” he murmured, still gazing at her.

Blinking, she moved away, noticing they had somehow drawn closer together as they spoke. “Well,” Cass said, “I better shower.”

“I can wait,” the man proposed, never failing to be chivalrous. “Then I can walk you home.”

“That’s alright,” she denied, shaking her head and hands. “I’m not going home right away.”

His brows drew together in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

A half smile warmed her awkward facial expression. “I wanted to stop by my old job to explain my sudden departure,” she explained now. “Since we’re leaving tomorrow, it’s my last chance to set right the things that I can.” Shrugging, Cass stepped back toward the shower stall. She shouldn’t have to justify herself to this man; he was a coworker, a friend at most.

Yet, somehow, the woman felt that she’d disappointed him.

And the thought hurt more than she’d expected.

Vadix only nodded in response, and turned away, without a backward glance.

#

As he walked home, the turian contemplated the odd exchange he’d just had. Cassana had seemed… different. Sincere as always, yet somehow guarded in a way he couldn’t remember her being before.

Perhaps she was simply dreading their imminent departure from the Citadel.

But that couldn’t be it. She was the bravest person he knew.

Had he said something wrong?

That seemed the most likely explanation.

She probably needed some space from him and all of his backward tendencies.

At this rate, he’d probably be up to speed with proper interpersonal communication by the time the Reapers took over the galaxy. _Just my luck_ , Vadix thought sourly.

In this somber mood the turian made his way home, trudging slowly through the streets just before the shift change. If only he had someone to shed some light on the situation, but Cassana was the only person besides his parents who would speak to him without obvious contempt.

Wait, he realized, stopping in his tracks, nearly blockading a salarian rushing up from behind him.

Juvelea.

Maybe she could provide some insight.

Vadix began a short message, then once again stopped in his tracks.

No, no, no, he couldn’t talk to her about another woman. That was a mistake he didn’t have to make twice to learn the attached lesson: that had to be why Cassana was acting so weird around him now.

Still. It was his last night on the Citadel for who knew how long. He owed her an explanation, before simply disappearing.

Resolute, the man finished typing a message and sent it before he could back out of it.

With renewed vigor, Vadix continued on his way, wondering how to explain to his parents that he was departing home.

The short journey did not provide near enough time to decide on his course of action.

When he arrived, both of his parents sat at the kitchen table, speaking in low voices surrounded by the melodic sounds of their intertwined subvocals, the epitome of a happy couple.

“Uh, hi,” Vadix stammered, feeling like he was intruding.

The pair looked up at him, their white facial tattoos in sharp contrast with his blue hide and her red one. Trebaana’s mandibles fluttered with joy. “Honey, you’re home early!”

“Seems they’ve been working you down to the core, eh?” Dartius looked pleased to see his son, but Vadix could tell that something was on his mind, something serious.

Glancing at his mother, he tried to figure out if she had told her husband about Vadix’s recent career change. She raised a single red brow plate and shook her head minutely, smirking softly.

Vadix groaned inwardly, subvocals complaining loudly.

“What’s wrong?” queried his father, who was at present ignorant of his son’s recent life developments.

Resolved to his choices and hopefully prepared to defend them, the younger turian squared his shoulders. “I left C-Sec, Father.”

Dartius drew his brow plates together, his pale blue eyes concerned and confused.

Before he could object, Vadix continued. “The human Spectre, Commander Shepard, recruited me for a mission and it was an opportunity I couldn’t refuse.” He shook his head, feeling he’d already botched this conversation. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate all you’ve done for me, the favors you called in so I could get a start with Citadel Security, because I _am_ exceedingly grateful to you, to both of you.” He gestured to his parents, still seated at the table. Trebaana had a soft glow of pride about her, while her husband looked like he was processing the news of a distant relative’s death.

 _Spirits_ , Vadix prayed and took a deep breath. “I think it’s time that I made my own way in the universe. You can’t protect me forever and I won’t be able to hide behind your influence all of my life; I have to start making my own choices. Yes, I’ll make some mistakes and, like the man you’ve raised me to be, I will deal with the consequences of both my decisions and my errors. Whether this is a misstep or not remains to be seen, but I gave the human Spectre my word and I intend to see this through to the end.”

Pausing for air, he finally noticed that his father now shared the same expression as his mother.

“Well,” rumbled Dartius. “Spoken with true turian honor.” He stood and walked to his son, clapping him on the shoulder. “I only wonder you waited so long to tell us,” the cobalt turian added.

“Er,” Vadix stuttered and then admitted, “I told Mother earlier this week. But I haven’t seen you much so I just never got the chance,” he ended lamely, looking at the floor, regret coursing through him.

Dartius slapped his arm again, the oversight apparently forgiven. “That’s quite alright. Thank you for telling me now. So, what happens next?”

Once more, the young man felt chagrined. “Actually, we ship out tomorrow.” He cringed inwardly, waiting for the reprimand he was sure would come.

His parents stared blankly at him, trying to understand the situation.

Trebaana recovered first. “Wow,” was all she said, nearly mute. Her husband nodded slowly in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” their son apologized. “The time passed so quickly. To be honest I’d nearly forgotten; my partner reminded me about it tonight.”

“’Partner’?” his father asked, turning a sharp eye on his child. “Tell me about this partner,” Dartius demanded.

His wife cleared her throat meaningfully.

“I mean, tell _us_ about this partner,” he corrected himself, appropriately humbled.

Vadix thought to himself, _This is going to be a long night_.


	26. Explained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Approaching Flux, Cass wasn’t sure what to expect. After so many years working there, it felt surreal to walk in as a customer and not an employee. Anara should be working her normal shift, but the human felt no desire to see other coworkers, especially Kimi, who had thankfully quit ages ago. Still suspicious she’d done something to upset Vadix, even if he had acted like nothing was wrong, Cass didn’t think she could restrain herself from violently unloading her frustrations on the darker-haired woman if she were to see her.

Finding an unoccupied corner booth, she settled into a seat and picked up a menu. Cass gazed at the words, unseeing. She couldn’t get over her own strange reaction to Vadix earlier. It wasn’t like her to be so…possessive.

Was she actually jealous?

The man owed her nothing, and her him, likewise.

Yet she couldn’t deny the connection she’d felt from the moment she’d seen him that very first day, jogging in the Presidium. It wasn’t love, not by any means, but something within him had called to her.

Not for the first time, either. Often she had met wandering souls with concerns she longed to heal, and just as often she had succeeded. It was always professional interest, a desire to contribute to society in a meaningful and individual way.

Never before had she simply wanted someone to care for, and to care for her in return.

So much of her life had been spent on her own, not quite lonely but never fully belonging either. Certainly she had yearned for her mother’s love before she’d been taken, but her importance as a daughter had always been overshadowed and even superseded by spice addiction. Then, when she was gone, Cass had no one else.

At first she had struggled to stay afloat, unsurprising considering she’d only been fourteen years old. All too quickly the young woman had realized she could only count on herself. She’d taken a job and started earning money under the table, her employer willing to ignore her underage status in exchange for a lower wage.

Starting at a run-down bar wasn’t ideal for a teenager, but she made do. That was until some of the patrons began getting too familiar with her. Fearing potential criminal charges, the owner had sent her packing before anything “serious” could happen. Just not before anything at all could happen.

Then, at nearly sixteen years of age, Cass had found refuge in the young doctor tending to her injuries. Kind and understanding, he said all the right things and made her feel unique, special, desirable even. She was only too eager to give him her trust. But all too soon, her savior had become her jailer, intent to keep her down, chained under his sadistic masculinity.

Cass chastised herself at the memory. She’d been naïve, blind to the very same trap her mother had fallen into so many years ago. But, unlike her mother, she had escaped before the damage had become too much.

At least that’s what she told herself. She could even believe it in the light of day, when life was joyful and exciting and so worth living.

But, inevitably, the dark and terror of night would arrive, suffocating her with insecurities, drowning her in uncertainty. Perhaps, despite her getaway, the damage was already done. Perhaps she’d never be whole again, doomed to spend the rest of her short and insignificant life dragging her battered, bruised self from one user in need of a fix to another. And she, people pleaser that she was, would give it to them, hoping more than believing that the fix she offered would last.

Vadix didn’t seem to know it, but he needed fixing too. The difference was, unlike all the other people in her life right now, he didn’t _want_ Cass to fix him.

Maybe she’d simply become accustomed to being needed, being wanted, and now that she’d met someone who didn’t feel that way, the human interpreted that loss as a sign, a strange sense of compatibility.

That had to be it, nothing more.

“Does that menu suddenly possess all the secrets of the universe?”

The unexpected voice shocked Cass out of her reverie, dropping the plasticized paper in the process. She’d been gripping it tightly, and the warmth of her blood slowly flooded her fingers again. “Hi,” she smiled tightly, greeting her friend now seated across from her.

Anara snorted, faking a disgusted look. “All I get is a ‘hi’? By the Goddess, you really are the worst friend ever,” she joked with a pretentious flick of her lilac face.

The human dipped her head apologetically. “Just had a lot on my mind, I guess,” she shrugged.

Raising a quizzical brow Anara quipped, “You ‘had’ a lot on your mind? Something tells me it’s still there.” Then she paused, continuing in a softer tone, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Actually, I do need you to fill me in on something,” Cass remembered suddenly.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Chewing her lip, she explained, “Apparently I got totally plastered last night, enough to make me black out. I can’t remember anything past talking to you at the bar. Vadix filled me in—”

The asari cut off the rest of her sentence. “Girl, that man could fill you in ways you’ve never even dreamed of,” she stated, a glimmer of lust twinkling in her eyes.

Cass kicked her friend under the table, appalled. “Anara! I can’t believe you just said that!”

“What? You going to deny it?” she challenged playfully.

Her lips curled up despite her best efforts to be irritated at the interruption—and the immaturity. “Well how could I deny it? If I can’t even dream of it, how would I know what he’s like?” Cass gave in to the juvenile conversation, enjoying the lightheartedness of it all.

“Well take it from someone who _has_ seduced a turian: they didn’t start saying ‘take one in the sack and you’ll never go back’ for nothing,” Anara winked. “What’s taking you so long anyway? You should have him eating out of the palm of your hand by now. Or maybe eating out of your—"

Now it was her turn to interrupt, rolling her eyes. “You know I have no interest in serious relationships, not after my toxic ex. But Vadix is…different. He’s innocent, and I don’t want to corrupt him.”

“If I were his mother, I’d rather you be the one to corrupt him than other of the slags crawling around this madhouse,” Anara scoffed, her mood darkening. “Innocence never lasts long.”

Reaching across the space between them, the human pressed a hand to the asari’s arm. “Hey,” Cass reassured her friend. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

A moment passed in silence, the purple woman picking intently at the seam of a sleave. Finally she met Cass’s eyes, peeking up from beneath glistening lashes. A small smile quirked the corner of her lips. “Enough about that. You were saying something important, something about blacking out last night?” she prompted.

Understanding the inability to process past trauma, Cass let it go, knowing that if now wasn’t the time, then it was time to move on. “Yes, I can’t remember much and I was hoping you could help me fit in the pieces I’m still missing.”

“You said you remember talking to me at the bar, yes?”

The human nodded. “Yeah, after we’d danced for a while first.”

“Ah, yes, that’s right. Dier was getting pushy for attention so we had to give her some space,” Anara chuckled. “So I followed you to the bar where you were flirting with the help.” She looked pointedly back at her.

Cass could only stare back. “Was he cute at least?”

Shrugging, the asari responded, “Depends on your standards I suppose. You must’ve thought he was, cause you practically invited him to deflower you.”

Her mouth dropped open. “No!”

A lavender nod, furnished with a catlike smile was the only response.

She was almost afraid to ask. “What—what happened, exactly?”

The asari tapped the corner of her mouth with a thoughtful finger. “Well, from what I could overhear, he did compliment you on your appearance first, and you made some haughty remark about how you weren’t sure if he was a prime specimen for his own species, followed by a statement of your interest in finding out,” Anara trailed off, smirking at her friend.

Sitting back in her seat, Cass slumped into herself. “Damn. I must’ve been close to drunk already. I never sleep with strangers.”

Anara shrugged again. “No wonder you’re not much fun.”

The human frowned then stuck a pert tongue out at the asari, the gesture earning her a laugh in return. “Then what?” Cass asked, thinking that it would get worse before it got better.

Now her friend grimaced slightly, and she knew it was definitely going to get worse.

“Well, I was going to have the bartender give you some pointers about turians but then these two guys approached and—”

“Wait!” Cass nearly screeched. “The bartender was a turian?”

The asari looked at her, questioningly. “Yes, and?”

She sputtered for a moment, trying to put her thoughts into words. “But, why would you ask him to give me pointers?”

“Because you really need some help with that new coworker of yours,” the other woman explained matter-of-factly.

Once more, Cass felt her mouth drop open. She wanted to melt into a puddle.

Seeing her shocked expression, the asari tried to placate her. “Don’t worry, nothing happened. These two human guys showed up and tried flirting with you, but I distracted them with my stellar good looks so that you could have the handsome bartender to yourself.”

“And?” she pressed for more details.

“And then,” Anara winced. “One of the guys threw out a subtle insult and you kind of challenged him to a shots battle. Which you lost.”

Cass groaned, the pieces of secondhand memory falling into place: she knew where this story was headed.

“So,” her friend continued, justly apologetic, “while I was blessed with a threesome, you were cast out to the pole dancing tables.” Anara tilted her head thoughtfully. “But you were hot as hell so it was kind of worth it.”

“’Worth it’?” Cass repeated sarcastically, dumbfounded.

The asari flinched at her reaction. “Well, I mean, you had a lot of attention on the main dance floor afterward.

“Yes,” she grumbled. “Vadix told me all about the ‘attention’, as you call it.”

A mischievous light flicked on in Anara’s eyes. “That’s right,” she murmured. “Your knight in shining armor, I’d almost forgotten about him.”

Cass rolled her eyes, scowling. “He’s just possessed with this overwhelming sense of chivalry which demands he protect me at all times.”

“Maybe,” the asari allowed. “But if I had been the one he’d rescued like that, I would’ve gone down on him right then and there. The man deserves a medal.” She whistled softly, appreciatively.

Not for the first time, an unfamiliar flare of jealously swept through Cass. She felt her eyebrows pinch together, her hands tighten on the tabletop edge.

Anara, too observant for her own good, once again raised a hairless brow, wordlessly drawing attention to her friend’s intense reaction to a perceived emotional threat.

Folding her arms in defeat, Cass surrendered. “Fine. So I do like him.”

“You admitted it last night too, though I supposed you don’t remember it.”

Deliberately, Cass said, “Enough about me. I actually have something interesting to tell you.”

“Oh goody,” the asari giggled. “I do love a good intrigue.”

Laughing softly, she continued the story. “Well, when I pressed Vadix for details about last night, he told me he actually met someone.”

Wide violet eyes greeted this statement. “Wait, like, ‘ _met someone’_ met someone?”

“I think so,” Cass confirmed, the smallest hint of sadness creeping into her voice.

“And?”

Sighing, she tried to paint the picture in the best light. “Well, there’s some sort of turian culture thing about their facial tattoos, and because Vadix doesn’t have one he’s sort of ostracized. But apparently this woman he met didn’t give a damn; she treated him like there was nothing wrong with him.”

Anara hummed, but said nothing, pondering.

The silence felt heavy so Cass, unable to be alone with her thoughts any longer tonight, filled it. “So now, even though, yeah, I kind of like the guy, I need to let him go, let him follow his heart and be with someone who understands his society, his upbringing, his way of life, in a way that I never could.” Again she frowned mildly. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Cass wasn’t sure whom she was trying to persuade: Anara or herself.

Another moment passed in quiet.

“Well fuck him.”

The human nearly choked on an intake of breath. “Excuse me?”

The asari repeated, “Fuck him. If he can’t see what a catch you are, then you’re better off without him. Cass, need I remind you? You are vibrant, intelligent, and sexy. You’re powerful in ways that matter, in the way you interact with people, the intensity with which you care about others. I know I put on airs of arrogance and conceit, but I genuinely admire you. I could never truly be like you, but I do sometimes use your behavior as a model for what mine should be.”

Caught completely off guard, the human was speechless. She’d never felt so flattered in all her life.

Anara continued, “But now, _you_ need to take a page out of _my_ book and go get yourself a man who does appreciate you, who recognizes what a bombshell you are. Do you still have that chit card the bartender gave you last night?”

With a raised eyebrow, the human waited for her friend to remember that she had no memory of last night.

“Right,” she drew out the word, the realization dawning slowly. “Well, I think you might’ve slipped it into your dress somewhere before you began your loser’s sentence. Where do you think it is now?”

“Unfortunately, it probably fell out while I was dancing. That’s the most likely scenario.” Cass was surprised by how disappointed she felt.

“Damn,” the asari said simply.

The pair dwelt in their silent camaraderie for a moment, until the lilac woman had another idea.

“Give me your arm,” she demanded. “Let’s scroll through your contact list and see who would be a good candidate.”

Cass extended her arm, allowing her friend to peruse the long list of names.

She read several aloud. “Akarp, Alix, Andy, Buson, Cal, Cinap, Corgorm—why do you have so many salarian names in here? Connor, Dale, Duron, Furlern… wait, Duron? That’s a turian name. How do you know him?” The purple eyes asked a question she didn’t know how to answer.

“I don’t know,” Cass stammered, feeling a flicker of memory at the name, but she couldn’t quite place it.

A wicked smile spread across the asari’s pretty face. “Then we have a winner,” she muttered, quickly typing a message.

Waving her off, Cass stopped her friend in her tracks. “Anara, wait! We have more important things to talk about.”

“Still?” the woman was surprised. “It feels like we’ve been talking forever.”

Cass scowled good-naturedly. “Yes, well, I didn’t exactly explain everything about my new job. You see, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Anara blinked, not quite comprehending. “Leaving?” she repeated. “And going where?”

Now the human shrugged. “I’m not sure exactly where we’re going, but I’m leaving the Citadel.”

“That sounds sketchy,” her friend warned. “If you don’t get all the particulars up front, you really shouldn’t accept the job. That’s how you get into prostitution posing as exotic dancing, but then you’re in too deep to get out.”

For the first time in what felt like too long, Cass laughed, hard. “Don’t worry, I know enough. But it’s sort of a secret.”

A sly smile creeped across the asari’s face. “It’s a secret? Like a secret mission?”

“I mean,” Cass began, “if it _were_ a secret mission, I couldn’t really tell you that it was,” she trailed off with a wink.

Squealing, Anara wiggled excitedly in her seat. “Okay, now I totally forgive you for disappearing on me like you did. I thought Vinok was going to skin me alive when you just kept not showing up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Cass shuddered. “I know he’s not exactly pleasant at the best of times. Speaking of, we’ve been chatting for a while. What did you have to say to convince him to let you off the clock for so long?”

“About that,” the asari started, chagrined. “I kinda sort of promised that you’d work my shift with me, once we finished up here.”

With a deep sigh, she rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. But then, waiting tables wasn’t the worst thing ever. And the time she’d spent with her friend, maybe her best friend, was well worth it. “Fine,” she conceded, rising to her feet.

Anara’s grin was infectious. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Cass agreed, laughing with her friend.

A faint ping from her omni-tool drew their attention. “Wonder what that’s about?” Cass thought aloud. She’d received a message, a reply. But she hadn’t sent any messages…

_Name the time and place. Happy to further your education with scientific experimentation. After all, ‘all outstanding work results from immense zeal applied to a great idea’. What remains to be seen is if I’m the zeal or the idea. -D_

Slowly, her storming eyes met the abashed lavender eyes of her friend. “What did you say to him?” Cass asked in a dangerous tone.

Affecting a nonchalant attitude, Anara shrugged once. “Something about putting his perfection to the test—along the same lines of what he said to you last night I think. Guess you must’ve put his name and number in at some point, saved his info for future use.”

“The man is expecting something I’m not sure I can give him, even if I wanted to.” The human wasn’t sure if she was mad at her well-meaning friend, or if she was scared to give in to temptation.

Somehow Anara understood her inner struggle, and she clasped the human’s shoulders tightly. “ _You_ are a badass woman. That turian has no idea what a treat he’s in for, and a hell of a good one at that.” Squeezing her arms tightly, the woman reassured her. “Now tell him to pick you up here at 11. We’ve got shit to do. I think there’s an old uniform in the back you can wear, but we may have to make some small alterations—gotta present your assets in the best light possible. That’s a solution both Vinok and Duron will like, I’m sure.”


	27. Educated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Trying to describe one's new, attractive, human partner while maintaining the appropriate professional demeanor demanded by one's job was entirely impossible, Vadix had concluded. After a long conversation with his all-too-interested parents, the turian was eager to get out of the house, away from their covert glances and shared smirks. It seemed that, although Trebaana had not warned her husband in advance, he was still very quick to draw accurate conclusions about the overall circumstances of their son’s life.

“No,” he complained again, louder than before, sitting hunched at the kitchen table. “We’re just friends, if that. We’re just coworkers.”

Once more, his mother raised a brow plate, remaining silent. His father, however, wasn’t satisfied. “Really?” he deadpanned. “I may not have known what changed, but I knew something did this week. You’ve been acting differently, much like a yearling during their first trimester of the academy.”

At this Vadix scoffed, “I have not.”

Dartius now shared the same expression as his wife. “Coming home late, vacant expressions during family conversations, loss of appetite,” he listed off, counting the reasons on his talons. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, son, only that it’s something you need to be aware of. We just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Cassana would never hurt me!” the younger turian exclaimed, not quite managing to mask the anger from both of his tones.

His mother rose and came to stand behind him, placing her palms on his shoulders. “Vadix, darling, we’re not saying she would,” she reassured him, then paused, mulling over her next words. “Please just promise us you’ll be aware of your feelings, for the human and for anyone else. Be mindful, so that you don’t act rashly.”

Subdued, Vadix nodded. “Very well,” he agreed, his omni-tool emitting a soft ping as he spoke.

“Who’s that?” his father asked, a layer of protection overcoming his subvocals. “You should really invite Cassana over, so we can meet her.”

“Spirits, no!” the son cried, before he could stop himself. Seeing his parents’ expressions, he tried to correct his misstep. “I mean, er, she doesn’t have much experience around turians—wouldn’t want to overwhelm her.”

Peeking over at Dartius seated at the table, Vadix knew he hadn’t covered that verbal blunder very well. But, thankfully, his parents were willing to overlook his momentary disrespect. “Very well,” his father allowed. “But do tell us what she said.”

Mandibles fluttering with anxiety, the young man looked down at his arm, one talon gliding across the floating screen to navigate to his messages.

Then all of his movements stopped, the air in his throat blocked from departing.

It was Juvelea.

How was he going to explain himself now?

“Vadix?” his mother prompted, worried about his sudden stillness.

He tried to think quickly, but it was like his brain had stopped functioning. No explanations, no excuses, no way out of the hole Vadix was about to dig for himself.

“It’s not Cassana,” he breathed.

Exchanging a glance over their son’s head, Trebaana and Dartius were floored. “Then who is it?” they asked in unison, knowing Vadix had no other friends or acquaintances who would message him.

He gulped and cleared his throat, floundering for an easy answer. But it didn’t come. “Um, her name is Juvelea.”

Again, he felt his parents trade an unseen look between themselves. “But,” his mother began. “That’s a turian name.” She sounded as surprised as he felt.

“Yes,” he murmured, still in shock at the note he’d just read.

Speechless, Trebaana sat down across from her husband again, watching her son’s mute face.

“How do you know this Juvelea?” his father continued the soft interrogation.

Squirming in his seat, the younger man knew he was in for it, but couldn’t bring himself to lie either. “We met at a club.”

Four brow plates jumped in surprise, four mandibles swinging gently with astonishment.

Vadix continued, knowing they would only keep pressing for answers. “I went with Cassana after work one day. Her friend wouldn’t leave me alone and Juvelea sort of rescued me. She was…kind,” he explained, still amazed at the fact himself. “I wanted to meet up with her before leaving tomorrow, to tell her about my sudden disappearance before it happens.”

Looking up from the table, he met his mother’s eyes which were now wide with pride mixed with pleasure. “Then you’d better go meet her,” she stated, gesturing toward the door.

Dartius tried to contradict her, wanting to know more about their son’s suddenly blossoming love life, but his wife cut off his reply, patting his arm in consolation. “Just don’t stay out too late, dear. You’ve got a big day tomorrow,” she said without looking at Vadix, dismissing him from the table and the conversation.

Not one to complain about his unexpected escape from interrogation, the white turian jumped up from his chair, strode to the door, and left his childhood home without a backward glance.

Squinting down, he reread Juvelea’s message while walking:

_Here’s my address. Come by anytime._

Short and simple, her words didn’t offer a lot of insight into how she felt about him reaching out to her.

It made him worry.

What if she didn’t actually want to see him?

Then he’d really feel like a fool.

But she did tell him to visit.

He was simply obeying her instructions.

However she may feel about the situation—about him, really—the turian knew he wouldn’t find out until he saw her.

And even then, he may still be in the dark.

Hopefully she would be easier to read than a human.

As he made his way to the upper wards, Vadix contemplated his ability (or lack thereof) to understand a person’s emotions at a glance. He felt he’d made some progress over the week, minimal though it may be, and surely it would be more natural to do so with his own species. After all, he’d spent a lot of time over the years with his parents, and he could usually pick up on their moods without trying.

Perhaps that was due to his close relationship with them. Proximity likely played a role, he thought worriedly.

Soon enough, he had arrived at the woman’s door with no more answers than when he’d departed home. Vadix nearly turned around and left right then.

But then he decided to live by what he’d told his parents: it was time he made his own way in the universe, and he wasn’t going to let others’ opinions about him dictate his actions.

Before he could second-guess his newfound confidence, he rapped twice on the door.

Almost immediately, from within the turian heard a crash. Something must have fallen to the floor. A moment later he was looking at Juvelea, whose eyes were bright with exertion as her chest rose and fell quickly.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, taken aback slightly.

She nodded. “Yes, sorry, just tripped, that’s all. I’m a little clumsy,” she explained, chagrined, widening the view into her home and gesturing him inside.

Taking a couple steps beyond the threshold, Vadix took in the contents of the room like he would a crime scene. He felt on edge, like when he’d been brand new to Citadel Security, afraid to make one wrong move and throw off the course of an entire investigation.

The first conclusion he drew from a scan around the apartment was that Juvelea was far less tidy than Cassana. There were several piles of clothing in corners, a smattering of glassware strewn about, and the furniture all seemed to be rather rumpled. But it also felt warmer, homier, like a place where a real, breathing person lived. Somehow the thought put him more at ease.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the woman asked, moving toward a cluttered kitchen tucked in the back of the apartment.

Vadix shook his head, then replied, “No, thank you.”

She made a scoffing sound. “Oh, come on, it’s not like you’re on duty or anything. It’ll help you relax,” Juvelea persuaded.

“Very well,” he said, giving in to the pressure. “Thanks.” Slowly he moved to follow her across the room, looking at the knickknacks scattered across every level surface, some with clear asari or salarian origins, others demonstrating a questionable if pleasing mixture of cultures. “You seem to be quite the collector,” Vadix offered, feeling awkward.

“Ah, yes,” the other turian called from inside a cabinet below the counter. “Souvenirs from work,” she explained. “I can’t seem to stop picking them up. Each has its own charm, and a story to go along with it. Unfortunately, I’m running out of room for them. Do you have a preferred beverage?”

The topic change surprised him, and he recovered sluggishly. “Er, no, not really. Whatever you’re having is fine.” Still feeling uncomfortable, Vadix tried not to stare at the woman rummaging through the cupboards. But he’d already run out of things to say.

Except for the one thing he’d come specifically to tell her.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” the man stated without feeling, despite all the feelings roiling within him.

A silent pause prefaced her response. “Okay,” she began deliberately. “That’s unexpected. But then I guess we’ll just have to make tonight count,” Juvelea said as she rose, winking at him flirtatiously.

 _Flirtatiously?_ Vadix wondered, flabbergasted. _Surely not. I must be mistaken._

Handing him a glass half-full with an amber colored liquid, the woman clinked her cup to his and said, “Cheers,” drinking the entirety of her beverage in one go.

Now he really did stare.

A mischievous look stole across her features. “I know lots of tricks,” she taunted him. “That’s just one.” Then she placed her glass back on the counter before swaying to the other side of the apartment.

She hadn’t explicitly told him to follow, but that was exactly what Vadix did, mute, clutching the cup to his chest, as yet unsure whether he wanted to discover what her ‘other tricks’ were.

Until he realized something: he _was_ dying to find out.

Tossing back his inhibitions along with his drink, he stalked to where she lay on a large bed, glancing up at the ceiling as she scrolled through a list of rows on her omni-tool. Gingerly, the man left his glass on a spare bit of table then crawled over to the red woman, stopping just short of kneeling over her.

It was then Vadix realized he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

Of course he had suspicions about what happened when a man and a woman spent time together—especially on a bed—but all he knew about romantic relationships was the courting process, the logistics of wooing a potential partner. That was how his mother had taught him: be a gentleman, don’t push her too far, let it develop naturally.

This, however, felt nothing like courtship.

No, what he felt was a primal ache to dominate her, this unexpected woman who seemed to expect nothing from him, combined with a searing sense of discomfort and ignorance, for he knew nothing about physically romancing a female.

His insecurities threatened to overwhelm him.

Juvelea, however, appeared completely nonplussed by the hulking mass that hovered over her. “I thought we could watch a vid,” she suggested innocently. “Any preferences on that?”

The man couldn’t tell if she was toying with him or if she was being serious. “No,” he rumbled in response. “I don’t watch a lot of vids.” His subvocals whined, verbalizing his torn mentality.

Now she looked up at him, peering more closely. “Well, come on then,” she demanded, pulling his arm with enough force to bring him to her level. The motion surprised Vadix, and he fell onto her shoulder before he knew what was happening. “Sorry, sorry,” he repeated, embarrassed, trying to slide out of her reach, afraid to be too close but uncertain where exactly “too close” would be.

“Don’t be,” she commanded lightly, still panning through the list of titles. “Ah, this is one of my favorites: ‘Finding Meno’. It wouldn’t be too…overwhelming for you. Have you heard of it?” The red turian looked at him then, her face perhaps two handspans away from his own, and the sight was nearly breathtaking.

It was the closest Vadix had ever been to someone with no relation to him.

Clearing his throat loudly he forced out a husky response, “No, can’t say I have.”

Her mandible that wasn’t pressed against the mattress fluttered with happiness. “Good,” she declared with a smile. Making her selection, the screen embedded in the tiles above them shifted, displaying the opening reel of the vid she’d chosen, just as she shifted to move even closer to her newfound companion.

The proximity was intoxicating, Vadix realized, breathing in her heady scent that somehow matched the alto tones of her primary vocals. His own secondary vocals reverberated in reaction, pleased with the current set up.

But Juvelea wasn’t quite satisfied. “Stretch this arm out,” she instructed with a tap on his shoulder closest to her as she sat up.

With more than a little confusion, the man obeyed, forming an L with his body. Nodding once, the red turian laid down again, settling in right next to him, the top of her cowl tucked in while her head rested on his upper arm.

“You’re so stiff,” she commented with an almost giggle, placing her talons on his chest with an endearing scratch. “You’re allowed to touch me, you know.”

“Um,” was all Vadix could think to say.

Her subvocals practically laughed at him. If it were possible to feel any more self-conscious, the white turian did.

Gingerly she moved her hand from his carapace to grip his other arm, guiding him toward her upper leg, pressed against his side. “Here,” she explained briefly.

The man nodded, afraid to speak and ruin the moment.

“Now give me your other hand,” Juvelea instructed.

Bending his elbow, he let his other talons hang above her. This hand she placed on her own chest, saying, “And here. Both are good spots for any species, as far as I’ve found.” Her voice quivered as she spoke, and Vadix wondered aloud why she would tell him all this.

He felt her jerk her head once against him before she replied, “It’s nothing, just a hunch. But you have to be quiet now: the vid is starting.”

Watching the screen, the man followed none of the plot for several minutes, consumed by the questions flooding his mind.

“What’s wrong now?” she asked, startling him.

“Nothing,” Vadix lied, poorly.

The woman tilted her head toward his face, one brow plate raised. “I can feel your jitters. I know something is bothering you.”

 _Damn_ , he cursed inwardly, betrayed by his own body. “I just,” he began, unsure yet again. “Well, I wanted to know: what exactly are we doing?”

He was answered by silence.

“We’re cuddling. It’s supposed to be cute and fun and easy,” she finally responded. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, given your lack of reaction initially. But I still just can’t believe no one has ever pursued you.” Disbelief tinging her voice, Juvelea looked back up at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought.

 _Why would anyone pursue me?_ he asked himself.

As the vid progressed, Vadix saw nothing, understood nothing. While the night had provided a few more answers, they had been eclipsed by the deluge of questions that now barraged him. The turian felt confused about his feelings for the woman next to him, new and unknown as she was, and equally confused about the woman he now called ‘partner’.

The former, he suspected, was interested in something beyond mere friendship, especially if tonight was any indication: this cuddling stuff didn’t feel like a solely ‘friendly’ thing to do.

Yet Vadix knew very little about her. Who was Juvelea, really? What did she do every day? Was she kind to everyone? Did she treat all men the way she treated him? Should he also hope for something more with her? What would happen the rest of the night? What would happen after tomorrow when he disappeared from the Citadel? Would she think about him? Would she forget about him? Would she have expectations? And how would he know what they were so he could meet those expectations?

The other woman presented a comparable number of questions, despite having spent far more time with her. Did she care for him simply as a coworker? Or was there something more to her charity towards him? Could she ever love him, different as they were? What expectations did she have? And how could he not let her down?

Absentmindedly, Vadix rubbed the pad of his talons back and forth, traversing slowly up and down his date’s chest. Her subvocals purred with pleasure. “Maybe you’re not so bad at this after all,” Juvelea murmured, drawing her knuckles across his hip plane.

The man gasped as a string of almost painful pleasure jumped from her touch to his lower plates which shifted in response.

“Are you even watching the vid?” she asked, turning onto her side to face him and twining one of her legs around his own. “Or are you being naughty behind those handsome eyes of yours?” Beginning with a tap of his temple, the red turian trailed one razor tip of her talons across his cowl then down and over to his other hip. This she pinched sharply, eyes now dark with lust as she observed the autonomous reaction of his body.

His brain struggled to keep up, lethargically recognizing that his shaft had already moved forward, pressing apart his lower plates. _What is happening?_ he wondered in bewilderment.

Before he could register the speed with which this interaction progressed, Juvelea had twirled her two long fingers around his head, visible now in the gap between his legs. The motion sent shockwaves through him, nearly pulling the air out of his lungs.

“Stop,” he wheezed, feeling sick from the wanton desire now coursing through his veins.

Surprisingly, she did, freezing exactly where she was with a hand poised above him and a question in her eyes.

Vadix knew his fear would be blatantly reflected in his own dark eyes, and he willed her to understand, unable to speak his mind.

With a cock of her head, her gaze softened. “Okay,” she said simply, settling back down against his arm as if nothing had happened. “I won’t push you.”

The vid continued to roll, oblivious to the turmoil exploding within the white turian.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even think.

Of its own volition, his body gradually adjusted back to its normal state of non-arousal, calming his erratic breathing and slowing his racing heart.

Already the memory felt like a dream.

Or a nightmare.

He wasn’t sure which.

While the intensity of the experience was beyond his wildest imaginings, and the innermost part of him had desperately wanted to continue, Vadix knew it hadn’t been fair to Juvelea.

Because, the whole time he’d been nagged by one little thought at the back of his mind: _I wish it was Cassana._


	28. Studied

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

After what felt like hours, Cass was nearing the end of her—Anara’s—shift. She felt even more exhausted than normal, the combined stress and exertion of her training with Vadix along with the effort and bustle of her old waitressing job taking a toll on her stamina. As the clock continued its slow approach to 11 pm, the woman stole a moment to herself in the tiny bathroom tucked in the back corner, taking a breather both mentally and physically.

Now, standing alone and peering into the mirror, the human could finally see the results of her friend’s attempted makeover. Needing more than a little alteration due to its elf-like size, they’d sliced the skirt open nearly to her hip so that she could walk and not just mince from table to table. The top was so tight she couldn’t take a deep breath, but there wasn’t much they could do about that other than ‘think flat-chested thoughts’—at least she had been able to shed her sports bra for the evening. Then Anara had insisted on applying “just a few” makeup touches to her face, resulting in an overall nearly-skank look, which effectively covered up her haggard appearance to the average (or drunk) observer; Cass grimaced internally at the trade-off.

But now, she was willing to exchange for a little more skanky if that meant she could breathe easier. After only an hour, she felt winded, continually seeking more oxygen. In the main room of the club, the lighting was so low she’d been afraid to make too many adjustments and expose more skin than even her old boss would like to see. True, the recessed lamp here had seen better days, but it still provided better illumination than anywhere else at the moment. Combined with the foggy mirror, it was the best option she’d have available for a good while. Knowing her absence would be noticed sooner than she’d like, Cass quickly dipped her hands beneath the fabric. As she pulled at her exasperated breasts, the relief was immediate and she sighed deeply.

“Can I help?” asked an unfamiliar timbre.

Whirling around, Cass gripped the sink edge behind her with both hands, shocked at the intrusion, now unable to breathe deeply for an entirely different reason.

A turian stood in the doorway, the room too small to hold both of them comfortably.

A _hot_ turian.

He gazed at her appreciatively, lingering at the swelling curves of her chest. Finally he met her eyes, and it was like wading through a field of life, teeming with potential.

“Can I help you?” she stammered out before she could tumble headfirst into this sexy trap.

“I think I just asked you that,” he answered smoothly, taking a small step forward, pulling the door behind him until it was nearly closed. Cass was pressed as far back as she could go, and he was less than a handspan away.

Her brain shuttered, unable to process what was happening. It felt like something from a vid, completely unreal. “I’m sorry, but, do I know you?” She tried to stall, to give herself time to think.

A rumbling laugh deep in his chest seemed to echo in the small space. “Not really, though I did pretend to be your boyfriend last night. Guess all you know about me is my name and my job.” Again, he inched toward her, and the woman felt that if she inhaled too deeply their bodies would connect.

The thought was as terrifying as it was thrilling.

Then her mind caught up with reality, sliding the borrowed puzzle pieces of memory into place. “Duron,” she breathed, a flicker of familiarity flitting through her mind but it was gone before she could seize hold of it.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t wait until 11,” he drawled. In one fluid motion he grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the edge of the sink, fully closing the door behind him. The overhead lighting that earlier had pointed out her own fatigued appearance now illustrated the man’s masculinity, seeming to caress the grey plates covering his frame which towered over her. Cass looked up, the light source now hidden behind his head was reflected in the mirror at her back and again into his soft green eyes, highlighting the red marks painted subtly on his skin.

His assertive manner was definitely a turn on, but it was the gentle desire she saw in his eyes that made her trust him in that moment.

Reaching up with one hand, Cass placed a tender palm on his mandible, caressing the edge with her thumb. He leaned into the gesture, eyes closed, and she felt the turian somehow vibrate from within.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Duron murmured around the almost-noise emanating from him.

Mute, the human shook her head, feeling uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

Opening his eyes at her lack of response, he saw the end of her movement and his eyes widened. “Wait, like, ever?” he whispered, horrified at his own presumption.

The terror in his voice was somehow humorous, and she giggled at him like a schoolgirl. “Oh no, just never with a turian.”

Slowly he nodded his head, placing his talons lightly on her hips. “That’s a relief then.” He nuzzled the top of her head, then, with a nudge, pushed Cass to lean against the wall, resting the flat of his face against her clavicle.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” the turian mentioned softly. “Never ceases to amaze me.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he asked, “What do you know about turians? When it comes to lovemaking, I mean.”

Despite her long and storied history in the bedroom, the question made Cass strangely uncomfortable. Normally she was the one asking the questions, educating her partner. It was bizarre to be on the opposite side of it. “Um, your fringe,” she began, touching the associated anatomy, stroking the length of his crest now erect at her eye level, earning her another almost-silent reverberating moan.

The human paused, uncertain if she should voice her suspicions.

Casually Duron began to run his hands up and down her sides. “Anything else?” he prompted, curiosity leaking into his tone.

“Well, I suspect there’s _something_ about your hips, but I don’t know what…” she trailed off, feeling ridiculous.

On his next upward pass, he continued along the bottom of her arms, lightly directing her to rest her hands at his waist. Covering her palms with his talons, the turian lifted his head until he was breathing on her neck, just behind and beneath her ear. “Mimic me with your fingers,” he commanded in a low voice.

Cass wondered what exactly he meant until he began to rub the edges of his mouth plates against her sensitive skin. The sensation was unlike anything she’d before experienced, her body jerking forward unconsciously, eyes closing surreptitiously. After a moment, her nerve endings reconnected and her thumbs rubbed slowly across the raised corners of his hips, following the ebb and flow of his mouth on her neck.

When she increased the pressure, the razors in his mouth grazed her ionized skin in the most delectable way. Feeling more confident she quietly queried, “Alien erogenous zone? That’s hot.”

“Mm, well, my pet, lucky for you I know all about alien erogenous zones.” With that vague preface the man dropped his head once more, resting his forehead at the base of the human’s neck. In a flash his tongue darted out, flicking once against her flesh. Before she could react to the first time, again he opened his mouth. This time, his tongue plunged between her breasts, stroking the lower curve of one. As the foreign organ rubbed against her, Cass thought it was like being licked by a cat, rougher than she’d expected.

But oh so erotic.

“Damn,” she groaned, chest heaving. “I have to get back to work,” Cass realized with not a little regret as she opened her eyes once more, remembering where exactly she was.

Chuckling against her, Duron replied, “Yes, and now we’re almost on equal playing field.”

“How’s that?” she asked, still lost in the torturous pleasure of his tongue, wishing for more.

The turian stood to his full height once more, smiling down at her like he was about to let her in on a secret. “I said earlier, all you know about me is my name and my job. But all I know about you is your job. Care to even the score?”

A sly grin overtook her face. “And if I don’t?”

Looking ponderous, the man looked around the room, seeming to contemplate his answer. “I’ve made it a point never to fuck a woman whose name I didn’t know,” Duron said, before meeting her gaze. “But for you,” he paused, unrestrained passion etched across his features. “I’d make an exception.”

With a pointed gaze, she mentally measured him up. Despite her much experience with handling matters such as these, she was not the type to rush into a sexual relationship. Since breaking up with her ex so many years ago, Cass had vowed to be more careful, to weigh the pros and cons more honestly so as to avoid being hurt yet again.

And honestly? There was nothing safe about the opportunity which now presented itself, nothing guaranteed about the stranger standing in front of her.

She should hightail it out of there before she gave in to her own selfish desires.

At the same time, somehow, she _did_ feel safe with him. Something deep within her recognized something deep within the man who now offered himself to her.

Perhaps it was his shameless desire to have her, his obvious physical attraction to her, so opaquely different from what Vadix felt for her.

But that was the crux of it, wasn’t it?

Cass wanted Vadix more than she’d wanted anyone else before.

The only problem was, he didn’t want her.

He’d already found someone else, someone who could relate to him in ways she could hardly dream of understanding.

Of course, her new work partner had been completely upfront and gentleman-like about it. She couldn’t resent him for having feelings of his own. He owed her nothing.

So why should she owe him something, anything?

No. She belonged to no one, and she could do whatever—whoever—the fuck she wanted.

“Very well,” she decided aloud. “You may call me Cassana.” Meeting his green eyes, her own alight with the promise of satisfaction, Cass nodded once. “And once my shift is over, you may take me home where we will continue this…lesson.” As she finished her sentence, the woman reached up to tweak the turian’s head fringe before hopping down from the sink, taking up what little free space remained. Body to body, she reached around him to open the door, gracefully slipping out of the tiny room into the minutes which marched between now and the moment she could resume the delightful instruction begun in that dimly lit stall.

#

It was 10:49.

“Cass,” Vinok, the night manager, caught her arm as she passed the bar. “Finish with that table, I need to speak with you.” After only a week, already she was unused to the salarian’s abrupt manner of speaking. Nevertheless, she nodded her understanding.

He released her and turned back to another task, but not before she saw the look in his eye: the man was not happy about something.

Trying to hide her internal anxiety, she delivered drinks to the table she’d just left then returned to her old boss, preparing for the worst.

The grey-blue alien motioned for her to join him behind the counter, his reflective eyes more serious even than normal. Cass simply stared at the ground, waiting for the verbal onslaught to begin. And she deserved it, after leaving without any sort of heads-up.

But still he did not speak.

Peeking up, she saw him darting glances over her shoulder toward the entrance. “Vinny, is something wrong?” she asked tentatively.

Now his gaze snapped back to her. “Shouldn’t call me that,” he demanded. “Told you thousand times. But yes, something is wrong. Think you know what, eh?” With a cock of his head, he added a layer of warning to the question.

Cass resumed her stare-down with the floor. “Yes,” she sighed. “I just stopped showing up to work, without notifying you at any point.”

A moment of relative silence passed between them, interrupted only by the bass pounding throughout the club.

“Forgot that,” he mumbled to himself. “Yes, yes, that too.”

“’That too’?” the human asked in alarm. “What do you mean, ‘that too’?”

The salarian glared at her now, but she was too confused to drop her eyes. His lower eyelids lifted, narrowing his large eyes in suspicion. “Always thought you were the smart one,” he muttered again. “Not so sure now.” Then, with wide eyes once more, he grabbed her hand and stuffed what felt like a credit chit into her palm. “You help today, after no help all week. With this, consider us even.”

With surprise, Cass looked down at her hand to verify what he’d given her. It was, in fact, a credit chit. She stared back at him in dismay, uncertain what exactly what going on.

“Your tips from tonight,” the blue man clarified, a deep sigh making evident his opinion of her own imbecilic responses during the conversation. “Minus fees for my time to replace you with no notice.”

“Oh,” was all she could muster. It was completely unexpected and so unlike the logical salarian. Perhaps he wasn’t so emotionless after all. “Thank you,” she whispered, throwing her arms around his long torso to engulf him in a hug.

The man stiffened, clearly uncomfortable by the sudden physical contact. When she didn’t immediately release him, he patted her twice on the shoulder. “Yes, yes, now then,” he stuttered, seeking escape.

With a soft giggle, the woman stepped back, gratitude shining in her pale eyes. “Thank you, Vinok,” she murmured.

“Yes, yes,” he repeated. “Now please take care of _that_.” Pointing over her shoulder, her ex-manager turned her to face the thing that had him worried in the first place. “Been there all night, scaring customers.”

Seated in the booth closest to the doors was her would-be seducer.

And, somehow, from across the room she felt like he’d already begun to ravish her. Cass felt her cheeks flush, her inner awareness moving out her brain to flood her core, eager for what was to come.

“But my shift isn’t over,” she said to Vinok, unsure if he was still near enough to hear her, unable to take her eyes from Duron’s. He seemed to burn from within, like the tropical forests she longed to see, emanating heat and energy and life.

_He burns for **me**_ , she thought possessively.

Remembering she’d just been paid, Cass realized with a jolt that meant she’d also been dismissed.

That meant she could leave anytime.

Right now.

Mechanically, she shed the waitressing accessories she’d donned earlier that night, her gaze never breaking contact from the turian across the room. Almost like an echo, she heard something fall to the floor; the woman had misjudged the distance to the countertop in her covetous haze.

But she didn’t care.

For perhaps the first time in longer than she could easily recall, Cass strode across the room ignoring the needs of everyone around her, seeking only what she truly wanted: him.


	29. Roused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

It seemed to take eons, yet Cass couldn't remember even deciding to walk in the first place. Then she stopped in front of him, wordlessly consumed by the yearning electricity between them.

Duron sat at the end of the booth, one elbow resting on his knee and the other resting on the table at his side as he hungrily watched her approach.

The silence was crackling with sexual current.

"About damn time," the man finally said. Reaching toward the human, he gripped her waist with the pads of his taloned fingers, urging her closer until she stood between his legs, knees pressed against the booth. "I've thought of nothing else for hours," he lamented dramatically, lightly drumming his hands against her body.

His proximity was overwhelming and Cass struggled to say something. "What exactly were you thinking about?" she finally managed.

"This," he answered simply before pressing his face against the apex of her legs, rubbing deliciously slow.

With a gasp, the woman bent in half, falling forward over the turian. Already she could feel her body's natural lubricant preparing for the evening. "Duron," she hissed. "We're in public." She was loathe to reprimand him when it just felt so _good_ , but she was also loathe to pursue the endeavor with who-know-how-many onlookers.

"Lucky public," he purred, still stroking her body.

"I'm serious," Cass complained with a groan, sliding her hand over his thin shirt along the spine of plates stretched along the length of his torso.

"As you wish," the turian grumbled. With a gentle shove he created space between them, then quickly erased it once more by picking her up at the thighs and throwing the human over his shoulder. She shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone around who hadn't already been intrigued by the interaction.

Duron spanked her once as he paced out of the busy nightclub, admonishing loudly, "Shh, or people will figure out what we're up to."

Feeling the pleasure of her punishment in all the right places, Cass merely smiled in response, knowing he couldn't see her face.

In fact, all she could see really at this point was his tight ass, shifting gracefully as he walked down the glowing halls of the Citadel, just as alive at night as it was during the day.

Perhaps more so, given how lively one night could be, spent in the company of a man like the one now manhandling her.

And perhaps being manhandled wasn't quite so bad after all.

"So," Cass asked with curiosity while her fingertips grazed a path down his back and legs, as far as she could reach. "Where are we going?"

The turian took a few more steps, then paused at a juncture. "Ah yes, if m'lady would be so kind as to provide directions, it would give me the greatest pleasure to be her escort, this evening," Duron said with a lofty attitude, bowing deeply as he finished his sentence.

The motion brought the giggling woman over his shoulder to a nearly horizontal position, fairly parallel with the floor. "This lady _can_ walk, you know," Cass reassured him sarcastically, now running her hands around the jutting angles of his bum.

With a _tut-tut_ , Duron straightened once more. "I'm afraid this is the only way I can ensure m'lday won't escape," he continued with the charade, unmoving.

Cass huffed at him but secretly enjoyed the façade. "Very well," she agreed with fake-disdain. "But you must promise to be the perfect escort."

"As you wish," he repeated, with a flourishing bend at the waist.

When he'd straightened, the human couldn't hide a short laugh before she voiced her address. Then, after a moment's pause, Duron began to sprint, full-tilt.

Again she gasped, surprised by the sudden motion, but too jarred by the run even to speak.

Following what was quite possibly the shortest commute of her life, the man stopped in front of her apartment door and gracefully set Cass back on her feet, hardly out of breath at all, then walked a couple paces away before turning around once more.

The woman, on the other hand, who had exerted no physical effort at all, was breathing heavily. "What the hell?" she inquired around a lungful of air.

Striding back to her, the turian pressed her up against the wall, the doorframe wedged between her shoulder blades. "One more minute in this hallway, and I can't promise we won't have an audience," he threatened, sliding his hands up her sides.

Cass could only pant in response, fumbling for the button next to her door. The human's omni-tool pinged, its physical presence the only key necessary, before the pair rushed into the humble housing.

With a grunt, Duron picked her up once more, chest to chest. Out of habit, she wrapped her legs and arms around him, needing to decrease the distance between them. As he stepped toward her bed, his talons traced over her back, their almost-touch somehow more erotic than any physical contact.

Her moan of desire was echoed by his impatient subvocals.

"Let go," the turian commanded.

Immediately she loosened her grip on his body, then he tossed her body onto the mattress. After the bouncing settled, the woman gazed up at her bewildering tutor, awaiting further instruction. The man gazed down at his keen student, seeming to weigh the situation in his mind.

The humming of his subvocals increased in pitch momentarily as his assessing eyes took her in from head to toe. "Emotionally speaking, how attached to this piece of clothing are you?"

Thrown by the unexpected question, Cass had to think longer than normal how to answer. It wasn't even her uniform, the memory slowly materialized. "Not at all," she responded, voice breathy.

Mandibles thrown away from his face plates, the turian grinned at her. "Good," he murmured to himself before gripping the top of the skirt's slit with both hands—then extended the tear to bottom of her rib cage, throwing the excess fabric away from her body.

Her newly exposed flesh pebbled at the sudden onslaught of air, and the man placed gentle palms just above her hips. "I love this," he murmured, almost reverential.

The idea made the human giggle. "It's just my natural reaction to cold," she wondered aloud, then realized with mortification that maybe he was referring to her panties.

"Mm," was Duron's only response, oblivious to the woman's embarrassment, still watching the raised pores of her abdomen while rubbing the pad of one thumb across her hip bone, enthralled by the tiny soft hairs that covered her flesh, tickling his carapace like nothing else in the universe could.

An easy moment of quiet passed and Cass felt her body relaxing into the foreign foreplay. Although it was unlike anything she'd participated in before, there was something easy, comforting even, about it. Her eyes closed, soothed by the alien man's tender caresses.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, tone determined yet kind.

She thought for a moment, resolved to give him an honest response, knowing the harm which a misappropriated answer could do in the bedroom.

Still, being the kind of person who believed whole-heartedly in first impressions, her reply came quickly.

Cass opened her eyes as she told him in complete sincerity, "Yes."

Holding her gaze, the turian extended an arm toward her, one talon resting just above the dress' neckline in the space between her beleaguered breasts. She nodded once and held her breath, waiting for that razor edge to slice her open, revealing her innermost desires along with her lack of bra.

Smoothly he dipped into the fabric, dividing it cleanly in half.

Cass could feel the sharp tip graze her body from collarbone to solar plexus.

Not once did he break her skin.

With something akin to affection, the human watched the man who had only a moment ago stripped her entirely, a man about whom she knew so little. Rather than feeling awkward or uncomfortable, she felt freed: liberated from the physical restrictions of her clothing, unchained from the societal restrictions demanded on her passions, emancipated from the intangible restrictions she placed upon her own self.

Somehow, with this near-stranger, she didn't have to pretend to be something she wasn't.

She didn't have to pretend to be anything at all.

She could simply _be_.

"Damn," the turian breathed, mandibles hanging loosely, his eyes having dropped to her bare chest.

Now covered only by a simple pair of mauve cheekies, Cass was struck by just how _naked_ she was. "I'm not much," she offered self-consciously, shrugging her shoulders against the sheets.

The human's motion called attention to her squishy nature, something the turian found both attractive and weird. It was hard to ignore, but then he'd always had a soft spot for aliens. "Believe me," he murmured, "you are more than enough for me." Bending over, Duron quickly pulled off her shoes then knelt at her feet. Gingerly he picked up one bare foot, nuzzling her ankle with the side of his face, slowly inching up her body.

Again the woman giggled, relishing the strange feel of his carapace against her skin. His plates were almost metallic, hardened as they were, like natural armor. Where his 'softer' parts met her flesh, it was like the brush of something leathery, smooth yet still durable. Engrossed as she was in the mere texture of him, a squeak escaped her when he began to nibble on the inside of her leg.

He answered with a rumble, equally engrossed in his task, deliberately climbing to the center of her arousal, skimming across her skin with the edges of his mouth plates, every now and then mixing in a quick lick of his tongue, turning her laughter into something more animalistic and yearning.

As his mouth drew closer to her hidden labia, the turian's hands began to blend into the orchestra intent on making gratifying music with the woman. One dropped from her shoulder, cupping her breast, and the other slipped under her raised hips, cupping her cheeks. His fingers searched across her flesh, becoming familiar with the terrain.

Cass wasn't giggling anymore.

She was being devoured by his touch, reveling in the simple pleasure of being pleasured, her inhibitions flattened by one tweak of an erect nipple. Closing her eyes, a loud moan slipped from her mouth, mirrored by the wetness now seeping into her panties.

"Fuck, you smell delicious," the man grated out between whining subvocals as he reached the peak of her thighs, laying one of her legs over his shoulder while the other remained outstretched on the bed, pulling her hips—and pussy—apart.

Then the turian had a fistful of boob, clutching her, hard. This sensation was overshadowed by two sharp pinpricks which seemed to hover over her thigh. Through the fog of sexual stimulation, Cass made a small "hm?" sound just as the points disappeared.

She felt a brief pressure against her navel, then heard a faint ripping noise.

Once more the human's skin erupted in goose flesh, her heat no longer caged.

Taking a deep breath, her lover exhaled powerfully against her bared lips; she shivered in response. His talons which had gripped her ass now shifted, running his hardened knuckles along the crease previously covered by her underwear until meeting the edge of her desperately wide opening.

Cass whimpered, loving the torturous methods being used against her, feeling her climax beginning to rise above the general clamor within her.

As he inhaled her scent the man kneaded her breast, pushing her down into the bed, pinching her aching nipple between his fingers. It seemed she could no longer form words, but continued to respond vocally, her arousal obvious and encouraging.

In the most featherlight touch possible, he trailed the edge of his mouth plates along the reaching edges of her sexual mouth, feeling nearly drunk off of her exotic pheromones, like an adrenaline rush just before a death-defying act. Then he took the plunge.

When his tongue dipped into her, both individuals fairly sagged with relief, spurred on only by the thought of 'more'. Building momentum, the vicious organ worked her up and down, in and out, through and through, urging her toward completion.

Soon the ebb and flow he created with his mouth was replicated throughout her body, rising and falling in time with his ministrations, edging ever closer to orgasm. The turian could smell her ascending aroma and knew she was close. Continuing to pulse in and out of her with his tongue, with the softest touch he could muster he nuzzled her clitoris, peeking out from under its hood.

The human continued to climb, forced onward by the sensations engulfing her body, audibly moaning her progress.

His mouth plates passed their defined edge over that bundle of nerves once, then a second time, and then a third.

Just before she reached the peak, Cass had enough mental presence to form out one word, "Vadix!", before falling headfirst into the waves of pleasure that crashed into her. Fisting the blankets on which she lay, her legs pulled in against the turian fucking her with his tongue. Her vaginal muscles clenched within her, momentarily releasing her to descend back to reality before pulling her back again, repeating this course until she had drifted back into her bed.

The human felt utterly spent.

Without opening her eyes, she felt the mattress shift around her, then the light filtering in through her eyelids darkened. Smiling, Cass peeped a look at the man above her, his hands planted next to her shoulders. He'd stripped off his shirt, revealing yet more gray scales and skin.

Duron wore a puzzled, if pleased, expression. "You know," he began. "Call me crazy but being called the wrong name? It was kind of hot, not gonna lie."

The blood drained from the woman's face.

"Shit," she briefed in disbelief, thinking back.

But he was right.

She had called him by the wrong name.

She'd called him 'Vadix'.

"You wanna talk about it?" her partner asked gently, still not touching his body to hers. "About him?"

With a groan, Cass motioned for him to move over. He did and she sat up, saying, "No. I don't know."

The grey turian considered this, green eyes ponderous, then offered, "I mean, you can call me whatever you like. I don't mind being used." Tenderly he rubbed the flat of his talons along the length of her arm, stopping short of actually initiating anything more between them.

_An interesting proposition_ , Cass thought to herself.

On the one hand, it was an alluring option. The night was young and so were they. Plus it was her likely her last night on the Citadel for a while; who knew when she'd be able to enjoy a fling like this again.

But, on the other hand, she had dedicated her life to helping people heal from abusive relationships, from the trauma caused by being the used or the user.

"That is tempting," she admitted in a whisper.

She felt him vibrate next to her. "I can be very convincing," Duron assured her, stroking from her shoulder to knee, then beginning the return trip along the inside of her leg.

With a choaked moan, the human realized what her answer had to be.

"I'm sorry, Duron," she murmured, feeling heartless and ungrateful.

He had already withdrawn his caressing touch. "Pet, there's no need to apologize," he reassured her, placing a gentle palm on her cheek. Then he stood and pulled on his clothing again, so recently discarded.

Without a word he walked to her door where he paused, gazing longingly at the nude woman, still emotionally torn about the entire situation. The turian's mandibles flicked out and in once, assessing. "You know," he softly intoned. "I'm not going anywhere." She met his gaze. "And I don't mind waiting. Something tells me you'd be worth it."

Then the man left.

And the woman cried.


	30. Assembled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

The next morning dawned with nary a salute to the pain that roiled within her. Cass was disinclined to believe the artificial light filtering in at the edges of her room, as well as the clock beside her head which now silently declared the waking hour. It couldn’t be morning. The dark mortification of the previous night still held her spirit in its vicelike grip.

She wasn’t sure what was worse: the humiliation she felt on Duron’s behalf, or the disappointment she felt in herself. For so many years Cass had nursed many a relationship—not her own, of course—back to health by aiding individuals in obtaining greater internal understanding, helping those with the desire to fix their own and/or their partner’s broken heart(s).

Now she couldn’t even help herself.

Perhaps the strangest part of all was that she’d been broken by an innocent she’d met less than a week ago. Vadix, in all of his awkward ignorance, had somehow broken down the walls she had built up to protect herself from forming an attachment.

After all, only the people you cared about could truly hurt you.

The timeline was impossible. But then she knew they had spent an inordinate amount of time together, more than she spent with anyone else in her life, and that was truly what allowed feelings to develop: time and proximity.

Really she only had herself to blame. Sure, she couldn’t have known when she accepted Commander Shepard’s offer that she’d fall—hard—for anyone, let alone a virgin. Yet Cass knew she still could have stopped this. She could have kept him an arm’s length, or better, even farther, away. She could have maintained a purely professional relationship with him and left anything beyond “coworkers” completely out of it. She’d done it before, more times than she could recall.

But, God help her, (if indeed there was one or any out there), something within the turian _called_ to her. It was a siren song, something irresistible and irrefutable. Something for which she’d cross the universe. Something she hadn’t even known she’d needed. Something with the overwhelming power to destroy.

All that remained to be seen was if it would destroy the obstacles between them or if would destroy _them_ instead.

#

Perhaps above all else there was nothing Commander Shepard detested more than tardiness. Granted, in a fire fight being on time was not the most important attribute to have, but, when her life wasn’t in danger, punctuality was something she expected from all of her squad members, and most of all from herself. Glancing down at her omni-tool as she strode toward C-Sec’s headquarters, she knew she’d done it yet again.

1427 hours, the embedded clock read.

Damn.

She was freakishly early once more.

“What time did you tell them to expect you?” a lilting voice asked from several steps behind, seemingly bodiless, surrounded as it was by only the Commander’s footsteps.

“1500,” Ember grumbled, knowing the wraithlike woman would hear her.

Kasumi snickered almost silently. “A bit premature, don’t you think?”

Shepard didn’t even deign to answer. It wasn’t her fault this was the last thing she needed to do before leaving the Citadel for the foreseeable future. And they both knew that she wasn’t one to dally.

The pair continued the remainder of their trip in solitude. The infamous thief remained cloaked, given that she was supposed to be dead, and the Alliance soldier’s aura of authority encouraged any passersby to give her a wide berth, which suited her just fine.

Finally they reached the training room nearest the back entrance to Citadel Security. Commander Shepard typed in the code, needing a moment to recall the numbers she’d requested less than a week ago.

It had been a long week.

Collecting that thermal pipe for the Normandy’s engines at the request of Chief Engineer Adams had been about the only thing to go exactly as planned.

From locating and recruiting a mercenary group at the suggestion of a Shadow Broker agent to an unexpected “field trip” to Omega at the request of the influential asari Aria T’Loak, followed by a routine visit with a lab scientist who was ultimately shot by his own assistant—which _really_ opened a can of worms—and culminating in the identification and apprehension of an indoctrinated hanar diplomat of all things.

With all her years running to and fro across the galaxy, one would think Ember Shepard was no longer surprised by anything.

Well, one would be wrong to make such an assumption.

Today she could only hope that the sudden appearance of her twin, along with Garrus’, would be a blessing and not a curse. The Commander could really use some luck right now.

Entering the glass-walled room, she was pleased to see the new recruits actively practicing.

At least something had gone right this week.

From here, she could almost pretend they were just another human and just another turian. The latter carried himself differently than Garrus, and the former possessed a grace which Ember could never emulate.

But then they must’ve seen her, pausing their practice bout to face their superior.

“Afternoon,” she murmured, somehow still taken aback by the similarities.

The turian saluted rigidly and the human nodded meekly.

 _This will take some getting used to_ , Shepard thought for not the first time. “At ease,” she said aloud, allowing the ex-Citadel Security officer to relax. “It seems you’ve both been hard at work. How do you feel?”

Neither spoke, just glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes.

“Please, feel free to speak your minds. You’ve taken no oaths,” the Commander reminded them. It was odd really; most of the time she interacted with her squad mates, who now treated her like an equal, a friend even, not like some divine savior sent to bring balance to the galaxy.

The notion was, quite frankly, absurd.

But that didn’t stop the masses from thinking it.

“We’ve worked hard this week, Commander,” the woman in front of her began timidly. “I can’t speak for Vadix, of course, but I feel like I’ve learned a lot and made some progress. But I still have a long way to go,” she ended, looking down at her feet.

Shepard watched this admission with interest, maintaining a carefully observant expression on her face, and then looked at the taller turian.

“Ma’am,” he acknowledged her gaze. “I agree with Cassana’s assessment. Progress is progress, after all, yet I am not satisfied with my own present understanding and knowledge. I should like to continue to learn, should your needs and plans allow.”

Slowly the Commander nodded, digesting both what they had said and what they had not. Each spoke with such formality, almost stiff in the evaluations of themselves. And perhaps each other. That could present a problem. “Do you feel like you work well together?” she finally asked.

Again, they did not answer verbally but looked at each other, seemingly unsure.

“Do you trust each other?” This was the crux of it all.

This time, without delay they responded.

“Yes.”

One word, two voices, zero hesitation.

Ember smiled, knowing the gesture made her look almost feline. “Excellent,” she stated. “Everything else will come with time. Trust, however, is the foundation upon which you must build. Without it, without teamwork, without implicit interdependence, you will fail me.”

Her short speech was met with silence, as expected. But she was pleased with their facial expressions: determined acceptance.

 _Perhaps they weren’t so different after all_ , she thought once more, her smile stretching.

“You know,” Kasumi whispered in her ear, still hidden from view. “I didn’t really believe you before. But now,” she drew in a breath, apparently awestruck for the moment. “They may just be the perfect secret weapon.”

Nodding once more, Shepard chose to keep Cass and Vadix in the dark about the fourth person in the room. “Now then,” she said with authority. “If you will follow me to the docking bays, I will show you to your new home.”

The pair nodded, but the smallest hesitation appeared on the human’s face. The Commander didn’t miss it.

“Do you have everything you need?” she asked in a gentler tone, suspecting the question on the other woman’s mind. “I don’t expect to return to the Citadel for some time.”

“Yes, Commander,” Vadix replied, picking up a small duffel bag.

Cass held an even smaller bag. “Yes, ma’am,” she agreed with a sad smile, moving toward the door.

Blocking her path, Ember gripped her shoulders and waited for Cass to meet her eyes. “You don’t have to do this,” she said quietly. “It’s not a life I would force upon anyone.”

Again that small, sad smile turned the corners of the other woman’s mouth ever so slightly. “I understand. But there’s nothing for me here.”

The Commander held her gaze. It was like looking into a mirror, seeing her own hair and eye color, even the shape of her nose and mouth. But then it was also surreal, to see the depth of pain hidden just beneath the surface of her own features and still not know what had put it there.

“Please,” Cass pleaded, clearly trying to make her voice strong. “I want to help. I have to.” Her last few words were so soft, Shepard wasn’t sure she was meant to hear them.

One more moment passed, a silent agreement passing between the two humans who shared so many outward characteristics, their inner similarities strengthening the unseeable bond.

“Right then,” Ember stated, releasing her grip on Cass and turning to the door, unable to shake the feeling that something permanent yet still unknown had happened just now. Soon enough, it would come to light. She knew it. “If you’ll come with me.”

#

Vadix followed two steps behind Cassana who was two steps behind the human Spectre, each of them walking in silence. He had watched their quiet exchange with mild interest, but he hadn’t heard much of what they’d said. It must be related to whatever it was that had caused Cassana to act so…differently. Today she hadn’t seemed like herself. But when he’d tried asking about it, the human merely waved off his concern and returned to their physical exercise.

Not for the first time he wondered what exactly had occurred.

Of course, he himself had spent the previous evening in an odd mental state. Perhaps she had as well. Though Vadix doubted her inexplicable discomfort with him was due to a turian, like his was with her.

Whatever the reason, they needed to get to the bottom of it soon. Although the Commander hadn’t said it explicitly, it was clear that she expected them to work smoothly under her direction, with whoever else was aboard the ship.

The turian felt a brief flicker of curiosity at that thought. Who else would they interact with while working this job?

But then they arrived at the docking bays. It seemed he wouldn’t have long to find out.

Commander Shepard gestured the pair of them forward, to where they could see the vessel she clearly admired.

When he could see the entirety of the ship, Vadix could understand why she admired it: she was beautiful.

“The SSV Normandy SR-2,” the Spectre said, pleased with their reactions.

The colors denoted an Alliance vessel, but the shape of it had clear turian origins. The combination of familiar and alien designs was impressive, and she was clearly built for both speed and stealth—as well as size. Vadix felt his mouth droop open, mandibles flapping slowly in nonexistent wind.

“Glad you like her,” Commander Shepard smirked. “But enough gaping. Let’s get you both inside to meet the rest of the crew.”

Still in a daze, the turian followed the human women, still unable to remove his gaze from the sleek curves and shiny exterior of the Normandy. He wasn’t a spaceship connoisseur by any means, but even Vadix could tell that this was one of a kind.

As they waited in the airlock, the Commander glanced at her subordinates. “You should be aware,” she began uncomfortably. “We do have an artificial intelligence on the ship, guaranteed to be unlike any AI you may have come across before. If that’s an issue, you can take it up with me.” She may have started her sentence less than sure, but she certainly didn’t finish that way.

Clearly this AI was as much a member of the crew as any organic.

What an interesting concept.

And then they were greeted by a disembodied—attractive—voice.

“Commander Shepard, the crew awaits your arrival at the galaxy map.”

“Thanks, EDI,” she replied without hesitation, stepping out of the air lock, obviously expecting Vadix and Cassana to follow.

They did so, jumping slightly at the thought of being left behind. After only a dozen or so steps though, Commander Shepard halted and Vadix thought he would crash into Cassana, less than an arm’s length in front of him.

They were greeted by fifteen serious-looking faces of all shapes and colors, all standing at attention.

Then a sixteenth—this one smiling mischievously—materialized at the far right, next to a now slightly irritated human woman.

“At ease,” the Commander spoke, appearing completely at ease with the deference being demonstrated toward her. “You may have heard rumors about a couple of new additions to the team with, ah, unique attributes.” She paused then, sparing a glance at the newcomers partially hidden behind her.

Though it wasn’t easy to hide his mass behind the relatively small human, Vadix swallowed convulsively, suddenly nervous at the thought of meeting so many strangers, not the least of which was a turian with blue facial markings.

But then Commander Shepard continued. “You’ll soon find that those rumors are true. Everyone, I’d like you to meet Cassana Arvius and Vadix Ramraka.” Stepping aside, she motioned toward the two of them and Vadix thought he’d swallowed his tongue. He couldn’t breathe with all these curious eyes watching him. Thirty-two, to be exact, wearing expressions ranging anywhere from moderate fascination to absolutely gob smacked.

Was he supposed to say something?

Did she expect him to introduce himself?

Spirits, please no.

But then his superior put him out of his misery, pointing out their new coworkers one at a time. “It will take some time for the two of you to meet everyone else, but for now allow me to introduce my team.”

Beginning at the back right, the Spectre reeled off the names.

Kasumi Goto: the human’s lips were accented in bright purple, in stark contrast with the woman’s eyes which were hidden from view by the brim of her hood.

Lieutenant Commander Ashley Williams: another foreboding human woman—maybe all human women were this intimidating and Vadix had just never noticed before—wearing Alliance blue and still grimacing at the flighty woman who had appeared without warning next to her.

Eedi: a strangely metallic woman with a frozen serene expression on her face. What an odd name, Vadix thought, trumped only by her strangely shiny carapace. She was shaped like a human but at the same time appeared far too hardened to be one. But before he could dwell on it, the Commander had moved on.

Engineer Kenneth Donnelly: the first man in the line-up—finally—was nudging the human next to him. He seemed a jolly sort of person, and Vadix wondered if he might be an easy person to get along with. Until the turian realized that the engineer was making eyes at Cassana. No, definitely not friendly.

Engineer Gabriella Daniels: doing her best to ignore the insistent elbow of Donnelly, this woman grimaced at something, probably the behavior being exhibited next to her. At least she seemed a more reasonable human.

Lieutenant Greg Adams: another human male, this one seemed much older and wiser, and possibly frustrated with the antics happening to his left. Commander Shepard stated he was the chief engineer, so he must also be intelligent as well.

Urdnot Wrex: though Vadix had dealt with any number of krogans during his time with C-Sec, this one had to be the scariest looking one he’d ever seen. A wry, if blood-thirsty, smile stretched across his wide face, and internally the turian vowed never to cross the man.

Garrus Vakarian: even having seen his twin before, Vadix still did a double-take. Aside from the blue tattoo printed on his face plates, Vakarian could have been him. It was unnerving, seeing oneself. Especially when oneself was wearing an irritated expression and looking like he wanted to claw one’s eyes out. Odd, that.

Liara T’Soni: a lovely asari scientist with finger itching to be doing something, it seemed. She smiled at the both of them, but clearly her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Must be some absolutely thrilling science to get back to, Vadix thought dryly.

Mordin Solus: a red-hued salarian standing in front of the asari, somehow fidgeting even worse than the woman behind him. His attention, however, was directed entirely at Vadix and Cassana, avid interest apparent on his face.

Communications Specialist Samantha Traynor: if that wasn’t the longest title of the bunch, Vadix wondered what could be longer. The human appeared to be mostly at ease but couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of Cassana. Unlike the engineer on the back row, however, her attention seemed much more polite, somehow.

Diana Allers: the news reporter also displayed obvious interest in the new additions to the team, glancing repeatedly between the two of them. Her knuckles tapped against her leg, eager to take notes on the unexpected arrival, no doubt.

Dr. Karin Chakwas: the only familiar face among the Normandy’s crew, the doctor smiled politely at both of them, then held Cassana’s gaze for a moment longer, nodding encouragingly, her eyes flicking to Vadix once. Her odd behavior caught his own interest, but once more he didn’t have time to dwell.

Lieutenant Steve Cortez: the man looked uncomfortable with the Commander’s praise at his piloting and driving skills but said nothing in response. Of all the crew members, he seemed the least interested in what was going on right now.

Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau: the first to interrupt the Commander, the human clarified that his name was “Joker”, to which the woman in charge merely sighed good-naturedly. Vadix noticed the Normandy’s pilot was leaning heavily on the counter in front of him, and the steely woman behind him seemed ready to catch him should he fall.

Lieutenant James Vega: the last of the crew to be introduced, he smiled widely at the redhead at Vadix’s side, not even glancing at the turian, who felt a sudden surge of jealousy course through his body. Despite his superior height, the human appeared to be in possession of a great many muscles—the turian wasn’t certain he could best the other male in combat should the need arise.

As the introductions came to a close, Vadix quickly lost track of who was who, but he knew Cassana would remember, of course. Hopefully she would be willing to help him re-learn their new crewmates’ names and vocations.

Commander Shepard cleared her throat, taking a breath before speaking once more to the crew watching them. “Everyone will have the opportunity to interact with both Vadix and Cass in the coming days, and I expect you to treat them as you do all of your colleagues aboard this vessel. Many of you will also be helping to train them for an upcoming mission and, like all assignments you receive, I know you will do your best. That’s all I ask for.”

With one more look around the room, meeting the gaze of each individual across from her, Commander Shepard murmured her last command for now. “Dismissed.”

As the masses dispersed, she turned to look at the duo who looked somewhat dazed from the sudden onslaught of new information. “I expect you’re both exhausted from the day’s work as well as that ordeal. Apologies, but it seemed the best way to handle the situation, especially given the similarities between the four of us.” The Spectre smiled, the motion softening her stiff exterior. “EDI will guide you to the mess hall and subsequently to the crew’s quarters. I believe two beds at the back have been prepared for you. Get as much rest as you can. I don’t expect you’ll be getting much of it from here on out,” she winked, then strode away to tend to whatever matters needed her individual attention.

The same alluring bodiless voice from before spoke then, startling the turian. The human was somehow immune to the sudden verbal visitation. “Vadix, Cass, behind the galaxy map you’ll find the elevator, which will take you to deck three. There you’ll find the mess hall, with various dining options. Should you need any additional guidance, you can speak to me from anywhere on the ship.”

Cassana smiled gently, looking up to the source of the voice. “You must be the ship’s AI,” she said respectfully. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” the intelligence responded. “Although you’ll have to forgive me, as this is only a partial introduction, I’m afraid. Shepard thought it best to wait until the initial shock of my existence wore off.” Somehow, the inorganic seemed to be smiling as it hinted at something entirely beyond the turian’s understanding.

But then he shrugged and moved toward the elevator, eager for some food and sleep. It had be a taxing day.

Cassana fell into step beside him, lost in her own thoughts. This suited Vadix just fine, given that he wouldn’t know what to say if she’d wanted to make conversation. Instead, they finished out the evening in companionable silence, finding their way to the crowded mess hall for dinner, then slipping out to discover their new sleeping location.

The AI led the way, somehow endearing in her explanations, the placid tone of her voice lulling him to sleep before he’d even realized it.


	31. Stirred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

Unable to sleep another wink in his strange new surroundings, Vadix sat on his bunk in the dim lights of the crew’s quarters on the Normandy, watching Cassana sleep from across the narrow aisle between their bunks; he was fascinated. She lay on her stomach, one arm extended to the corner of the mattress, the other curled up beneath the pillow, raising her neck in what looked like an uncomfortable angle. The thin sheet draped over her back had slipped down, thanks to her attempts at getting comfortable on the Alliance standard-issue “bed”. One knee peeked out from under the covers off the side of the bedframe—she was clearly used to more space at night.

It was the first time he’d seen her so exposed with such clarity, he realized, thinking back to their encounter in her bathroom.

In her waking hours Cassana was fiery and exuberant and untamable, often irritating in her unceasing insight and relentless questions. In slumber she was calm and quaint and peaceful, appearing almost helpless yet in need of nothing. The only thing in common between her conscious and unconscious states was that Vadix had never met anyone like her. Curiosity was the only reason he was so intrigued by her—or so he told himself.

It had nothing to do with attraction to _her_ specifically.

He knew he was nearing the age when he should settle down and start a family of his own. He knew it was what his parents wanted, and he detested the idea of disappointing his parents yet again. In an attempt to appease them, he had previously tried interacting with other turians, particularly women he knew would earn the parental stamp of approval. Yet, even if one of them had gotten over the stigma of Vadix being “barefaced”, he felt zero inclination to pursue any sort of friendship, let alone a relationship, with any of them. Even Juvelea, despite her apparent willingness to overlook the shame written across his face, didn’t appeal to him in the same way. Never had he met a person Vadix wanted to know better, in all the ways no one truly knew him.

Until now.

Until Cassana.

She alone was warm and inviting and enticing, yet pushed and prodded and pulled him to be and do more. She alone harbored no judgment or prejudice or discrimination against him because of his parentage—or lack thereof—yet, despite not being an insider to his culture, seemed to understand his constant internal conflict between honoring his unknown biological parents and his loving adoptive parents. She alone seemed to know when something was weighing on his mind, yet also knew when not to ask about it. She was brilliant in every sense of the word.

But she was human.

And, thinking purely in hypotheticals, Vadix wouldn’t even know how to begin courting a human; he could barely interact with his own species. Each of his conversations with Cassana had resulted in sparks flying, and he still couldn’t decide if they were good sparks or bad sparks.

At first, they had clashed like a volus and exercise—bad news for anyone in the vicinity—but the more they interacted the more he was reminded of biotics: unseen forces creating a gravitational pull impossible to resist.

A movement caught Vadix’ attention, drawing him out from this ponderous daze. In her sleep, Cassana had rolled away from the edge of the bed and onto her side. His breath stuck in his throat while his mandibles trembled, either from excitement or horror he wasn’t sure: the sexy, infuriating woman’s bare chest was on full display for anyone dumb—or perhaps lucky—enough to be awake at this hour. He looked away quickly, feeling like an intruding voyeur, yearning to sketch her in repose.

_Shameless_ , he thought, intending to reprimand her after she awoke. But then another thought stopped him. _Or maybe this is normal behavior for a human_ , he speculated. The majority of his human coworkers at C-Sec had been male, but they seemed completely at ease with being nude from the waist up even while in company.

Regardless, a counterthought appeared, testament to and yet at odds with his own modest values: _At least she’s facing me—and I’m the last bunk on the row_ _so no one else will see her state of undress._

_I don’t have to share her_.

He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering back to the even rise and fall of her breathing.

He could only wonder and compare. Of course Vadix was familiar with his own naked body after having lived in it for so long. Like all turians, he was hardened, cool, and unforgiving to the touch. There was almost no difference between his armored and his nude forms, except that one was thicker than the other—still Vadix never disrobed at all unless he was entirely alone. Generally speaking, it was difficult to discern between the silhouette of a male turian and a female; aside from the headcrest, there was no noticeable difference. During his time at boot camp prior to earning full citizenship, Vadix had seen plenty of bare turians exposed in the locker rooms but not once had he felt any sort of sexual desire toward either gender of his own species—he had always assumed he was simply too young for such interests. Then, as he had matured, he had been too focused on his education and training to care much for interpersonal relationships.

But now, as his eyes traced Cassana’s soft human curves sloping in and out of the sheets, for the first time he understood the “why” behind all the hushed conversations he had overheard but never been privy to: she was breathtaking.

In contrast to himself, she was attractive, alluring, and appealing. Although he was not at all familiar with human anatomy, he felt certain that Cassana was a specimen of perfection. She looked good enough to eat, protein differences be damned. “Spirits,” he exhaled, suddenly remembering to breathe.

Across from him, her eyelids fluttered open. ”Vadix?” she murmured blearily.

He snapped his jaw shut as quietly as he could. “Mm?” he managed.

“Did you say something? I thought I heard your voice.” She closed her eyes again.

_She’s barely awake_ , Vadix chuckled to himself. _She won’t even remember this conversation happening_. “Oh, nothing, Cassana. I was just admiring the view,” he gestured to her own inert form.

Glancing sleepily down at herself, a smile languished across her lips. “I’m glad you like it,” she whispered. “You know, I was secretly hoping you would—but don’t tell Vadix,” she added surreptitiously.

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in the space between them, Vadix felt his subvocals purring. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” _She can never know my side of this secret_ , he vowed.

Blinking her eyes open once more, she stretched her arm to grasp his talons in her hand. “Y’wanna know another secret?” the words came slurring out of her mouth.

His mouth was too dry to answer so he nodded his head, hoping her eyes were open long enough to see the motion.

Cassana drew his arm back toward herself and yawned, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t just see the sights, but also experienced them.” With the last of her waking-sleep energy, she dropped his hand on her hip as she drifted back into unconsciousness.

Frozen in place, Vadix stared at the flesh on which his talons now rested. He dared not move for fear of waking her from this fantastical trance. _Spirits, please don’t let me be dreaming_ , he prayed.

His arm was just long enough to reach her from his sitting position across the aisle, but the stretch would soon begin to strain his muscles. Glancing around the room and at a clock, his desires battled with his realism.

What if someone caught him?

But what if he never got to touch her again? When she woke up, she probably wouldn’t let him touch her again unless they were sparring—and they couldn’t very well do that in their birthday suits.

_What the hell_ , he decided, moving off his bedframe to kneel in front of hers.

Suddenly he heard his mother’s voice in his mind, from years ago, teaching him proper behavioral etiquette. He paused, thinking over what exactly he was doing. Vadix knew he could never take advantage of another creature—his mother would skin him alive if he so much as thought about it—and he began to draw back.

Then he stopped again. _She told me she wanted me to touch her_ , he argued with himself. But was that really Cassana talking, or was it just the sleep?

His eyes roved up her body until he was gazing into her relaxed face. Removing his talons from her hip, he laid them gently on her cheek.

And then she smiled.

The sight took his breath away.

Ever so gently, he caressed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. She sighed contentedly in her sleep, his own subvocals agreeing with the sentiment. Slowly he began to explore the smooth contours of her skin, basking in the sensation of her. He followed the profile of her nose, remembering the times she’d turned it up at him. He rubbed the end of her ear, earning him another sigh. He stroked the length of her neck, feeling the steady pulse beneath the surface.

Resuming his descent, he trailed his fingers across her collarbone then rounded her shoulder to clasp his talons around her upper arm, where he paused. Vadix knew from seeing his human coworkers—ex-coworkers—that Cassana had been healthy but not particularly muscular. However, after less than a week of training and conditioning, her body was already more toned. Vadix had admired her dedication, and now he could admire close up the physical results of her hard work.

When she had dozed off again, Cassana’s arm had fallen to rest in front of her, framing her neck and face. As Vadix continued his discovery of her body, his eyes fell on her breasts, peeping out from under her arm. Catching a glimpse of her naked chest when she first rolled over, he had been mesmerized by the small pink circles that had greeted him—what a strange species! Now, since her then-perky sentinels were concealed beneath her bicep, he settled with petting the entrancing roundness not hidden from his view. _Someday_ , he thought to her mystifying anatomy, _I will have the honor of making your acquaintance_.

Leaving one hand to keep her chest company, he moved his other down her midsection. Everywhere he went, her skin was like velvet to his touch. Reaching her thinnest point, he paused again, perplexed this time. _How does she manage with such an unsupportive waist?_ Vadix was positively flabbergasted.

_No matter. It’s clear she manages very well, even spectacularly._

His talons continued their journey down her side and finally met the edge of the bedsheet.

Again, he could almost feel his mother’s “proper behavior” lectures resounding in his skull.

Cassana was just so tantalizing.

A morning alarm went off next to the first bunk by the door and Vadix nearly jumped out of his skin, landing on his ass next to the bedframe he should’ve been occupying all night. Massaging the sore spot, he inwardly cursed himself for not getting enough sleep.

“Vadix?” Cassana asked just as sleepily as the last time, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What are you doing on the floor?”

He laughed nervously, “Guess that alarm just scared me out of bed.”

She nodded, groggy, seeming to accept his lame excuse. She sat up and stretched; Vadix felt his eyes nearly pop out of his skull. _Damn, but that was glorious_.

“You know, I hardly ever remember my dreams, but I had the best one last night—and you were in it!” she grinned, shaking her head as she rose from the mattress. His heart nearly stopped, before she continued. “Think you’ll fall out of bed every morning?” she teased, already falling into her normal banter as she bent to retrieve clothes for the day.

Vadix, still reeling with delight from all the new angles she presented to him, managed to grunt, “Nah, I think I could get used to this.”

“Good,” she intoned as she pulled on a jumpsuit over her naked body. Then, seeing him rubbing his joints that took the brunt of his fall, the human offered, “I’ve got something that might help. With the bruising I mean.”

Slowly he turned to look at her, his mind still lost in lustful thoughts. “What do you mean?” Vadix managed.

With a smile, she answered by rummaging in her small bag, clearly looking for something. Her mysterious non-answer was intriguing enough to draw the turian’s full attention.

He was rewarded with a tube of something, extended toward him by Cassana. “It’s a topical cream,” she explained. “It’s supposedly safe for all species, regardless of protein differences. I remember wondering when I bought it how that could be true.” She shrugged, pausing her sentences. “Still don’t know how, but now you can give it a shot.”

Gingerly, Vadix accepted the offering. “Thanks,” he said, feeling unsure about using the foreign substance on his carapace. “But I’m not that sore,” he tried to convince her.

But the woman simply waved a hand, her half-zipped uniform flopping against her chest. “Nonsense,” she commanded. “In my experience bruises always hurt less right after the moment of injury anyway. Just try it.” Her insistence was somewhat irritating, but the turian supposed she was only trying to help.

“Very well,” he mumbled, if only to get her to leave him alone.

Cassana continued to watch him, clearly interested in the outcome of this little experiment.

Her scrutiny made him very uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat, the turian asked, “You going to turn around?”

Brow scrunching together, she responded with a question of her own, “Whatever for?”

The man took a deep breath, feeling as though he were explaining to a fledgling. “I can’t very well slather this on my clothing, now can I?”

“Well, you could,” her mouth quirked in reply. “But that wouldn’t be very helpful.”

Vadix felt his mandibles pull in tight against his face, knowing his annoyance was now blatantly written across his face. “I can’t undress with you watching me,” he ground out.

Now one eyebrow jumped in surprise. The human seemed, for once, lost for words. Finally she nodded and turned around, finishing with her own clothing. “Don’t just pretend to put it on. I’ll know if you don’t,” she threatened without looking at him.

Scowling, and in what little privacy existed in the back corner of the bunk bay, Vadix squirted a small amount of the clear gel into his palm and rubbed it directly on his rear plates. He didn’t have to remove any clothing, but he still didn’t want an audience for this particular endeavor.

Ironic, given his own earlier observation of Cassana’s nudity.

He felt his subvocals murmur with embarrassment. If this wasn’t a double standard, well, he really had nothing to complain about right now.

“Okay,” the turian grumbled, still feeling slightly chagrined as he handed the bottle back to her. “Thanks.”

“Sure th—” Cassana stopped midword.

It was so unlike her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, certain the dread in her face was somehow on his behalf.

“Shit,” was her breathy response.

Then she grabbed him by the talons and dragged him past all of their new roommates and out the door.


	32. Glued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
> 
> Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

It only took about two steps beyond the threshold for Cass to remember she had no idea where anything was, that they were on a spaceship suspended somewhere in the galaxy completely unknown to her.

Hearing a soft babble of voices, she strode ahead, still unsure but hopeful she’d recognize at least one of the early risers. After rounding a corner, Cass found herself in what must be an open mess hall, which felt somehow familiar despite having never been here before.

Unfortunately, none of the faces that turned toward her were as familiar as the setting.

In her rush to find help, she didn’t even notice the sudden straightening of posture nor the salutes aimed in her direction.

“Doctor, where’s the doctor?” the woman demanded of the nearest crew member.

The dark-skinned man looked askance at her for a moment before gesturing mutely to a nearby door.

Cass whirled toward it without a backward glance, still oblivious to the strange expressions everyone was wearing while watching their hysterical commanding officer. Dragging her partner through the doorway labeled “Med-Bay”, the human cast her eyes about once more, landing on the woman who had met them a couple days ago.

“Is something wrong?” the gray-haired doctor asked, noticing the outward concern of the younger woman.

“Yes,” Cass answered, pulling Vadix forward. “I gave Vadix this bio-universal pain relief ointment after he fell out of bed onto his ass this morning”—the turian scowled at this—“except after he put it on, I realized I’d accidentally given him something intended for humans only and now I’m worried he’s going to have an allergic reaction to it”—his scowl turned into a grimace—“and I don’t know how serious it will be or how soon it will happen so I wanted to get medical attention as soon as possible.” The words poured out of her mouth until they didn’t.

Dr. Karin Chakwas, patient woman that she was, offered a gentle smile at the pair. Oddly, the one in potential danger appeared far less worried about the situation. “Well you’ve come to the right place,” she assured them both. Then, turning to the man, she asked, “Where exactly is the affected area?”

The turian lifted one hand into the air, shrugging slightly as he murmured, “Here.”

“I see. How does your hand feel? Any different than before applying this intended remedy?” The silver-haired human leaned over his palm, noting the overall appearance of the site.

His mandibles flexed as he paused to contemplate his body. “Nothing so far,” he replied slowly.

“And how long has it been?” the doctor continued questioning.

Vadix looked at his partner before responding, “No more than couple minutes I’d say.” Cass nodded, chewing on her lip as she watched the turian, still holding tightly to his talons.

“Hm,” Chakwas mused aloud. “Depending on its chemical composition, the ointment may not have been absorbed, especially given how non-porous your carapace is. Cass, could you bring me the container of whatever it was you gave Vadix?”

The redhead nodded and tried to walk out of the room. Except her hands were still clenched, and the turian she was attached to didn’t budge. “Ow,” she mumbled, rubbing her shoulder. Then for a brief moment her face lit up before a chagrined mask took over. “I just realized I’m, uh, holding it, still.” Cass handed the bottle to Dr. Chakwas.

She still hadn’t let go of the man’s hand.

_Interesting_ , thought the doctor with a mental smile. Then she turned her attention to the offending liquid, its front label worn and unreadable, scanning the list of ingredients. There were a few potential culprits—none of them deadly—but the one most likely to affect the turian was xylitol, a natural sweetener.

“Cass, what exactly is this product?” Karin asked, trying to keep her tone neutral, afraid her curiosity would be interpreted as scorn or censure.

“Um, well, it’s a body glue,” the other woman replied quietly, looking at her feet. “The container is the same size and shape as my pain relief cream,” she continued, still feeling uncomfortable.

The answer surprised Dr. Chakwas, who had never come across such a thing. “Fascinating. And how is it removed after application?”

Now Cass cringed, seeming to shrink even further into herself. “Either a lot of scrubbing with soap or…” she trailed off before sighing and finishing in a whisper, “or with saliva.”

“Ah,” the older woman said, grinning softly. “That explains the sweetener. I never would have imagined such an invention.”

The turian had watched this exchange like a slow-motion ping pong match, but now he piped up, having extricated himself from the human’s grip, thanks to her utter embarrassment. “Um, whatever is in that stuff, I must be allergic to it cause now I’m feeling really itchy.” If simply rubbing the lotion on his rear plates had been embarrassing, scratching them like he really wanted to would be absolutely mortifying, he realized. But Vadix wasn’t sure if he could resist the urge much longer.

“Ah,” the woman said again, this time more decidedly, displaying her adept bedside manner. “Let’s see what symptoms you’ve got now. Luckily it shouldn’t be anything life threatening, only unpleasant.”

“I feel so much better,” the man grumbled under his breath, unconsciously scratching one hand with the other.

The doctor tut-tutted, seeing an angry purple rash spreading across his palm and talons—which did in fact appear to have been glued together. “Let me just find an appropriate corticosteroid.”

As Dr. Chakwas moved away from them, Cass glanced at her damaged friend. “Vadix, I’m so sorry,” she told him, certain he would forgive her before she forgave herself. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“It’s fine, Cassana,” the turian reassured her. “You heard the doctor; it’s nothing life threatening.”

“Indeed,” the grey-haired woman chimed in, returning with a small cylinder. “However, there is still one dilemma to be solved.”

The unwitting pair faced her again, wordlessly asking for further explanation.

Karin chuckled, finding a sort of black humor in the potential solution, one she hoped would lead the both of them to admit their feelings for each other. “You see, as Ms. Arvius told us earlier, the adhesive is meant to be removed by a good and thorough rub-down with soap, or else with saliva. The issue is that the former option will agitate the hives as well as possibly spread the allergen; the latter option, well,” she grinned, “I’m sure you can determine the logistics of that on your own.”

Still, the two just blinked at her.

Now the doctor really did laugh. “Oh dear. Perhaps the scandal of it all is interfering with your mental processing abilities. You see, turians don’t produce saliva, not in sufficient quantities for this at least. Besides, it likely wouldn’t even contain the proper enzymes to remove the glue. Human saliva, however, _would_ do the trick. Of course, it will likely aggravate this allergic response, given that all turians are allergic to levo-amino acids, but the severity of your allergy to the foreign biology could be tested on an unaffected area first.”

Again she was answered with a couple of wide-eyed blinks. Dr. Chakwas remained silent until her speech could sink in.

“You mean,” Cass recovered first, licking her lips. “You mean to say the body glue has to be removed before you can fix it?”

Taking pity on the duo, the older woman nodded and said gently, “That would be best. Else I couldn’t say how long the symptoms would remain.”

The human looked over at her partner, who was still staring at the space in front of him. “I see,” Cass murmured, thinking it over. From an outside perspective, it probably seemed like an odd but bearable resolution. What the doctor didn’t know was that Vadix had slathered the would-be salve on his butt.

Somehow she doubted Vadix would want her licking his ass clean.

Even if he were to agree to such an outrageous idea, would she?

After a moment’s thought, Cass realized it probably wouldn’t be that bad.

Maybe it would even be enjoyable.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now.” Dr. Chakwas’ voice broke through her reverie. “But we should at least assess your reaction to human saliva.” She was speaking to Vadix again, who appeared to have focused on the medical professional once more.

Cass wondered what had gone through his mind at the suggestion of a tongue bath.

“You’re right,” he said, stunning Cass with his easy acceptance. “How would you propose to run this test?”

Silver hair swinging as she tilted her head, the human paused before answering. “This may surprise you, but I do not stock saliva with my medical supplies. So you’ll have to find a human to simply lick you.” Her face remained impassive, save for a flicker of mirth which Cass glimpsed for a split second, hiding behind her genuinely kind eyes. “And I’m afraid I am unable to volunteer for such a task.”

Vadix turned to his partner with a steady look on his face, determined, having accepted this bizarre fate. “Well, Cassana, what do you say?” He extended his clean hand toward her, talons hovering just below her chin.

The woman gulped, feeling uncharacteristically shy. Their roles seemed to have been temporarily reversed, she thought detachedly. But then she shrugged to herself, squared her shoulders and leaned forward.

She licked him, from the tip of one talon to the bend of his wrist. It was an odd sensation, especially when her tongue dipped between his hardened plates, meeting leathery skin for a fleeting moment.

It was odd, certainly, but also not disagreeable in the slightest.

Suddenly Cass was reminded of Duron, whose tongue had ministered her into oblivion. She felt her cheeks burn, certain her mortification was published on her face. At least Vadix and the doctor would assume her reaction was to the present situation, and not to her previous alien-induced ecstasy.

In fact, her reaction was the only one at present.

The trio stared at the turian’s palm, as though waiting for it to spontaneously combust.

“Well,” the doctor began. “The fact you didn’t immediately break out into a rash is a good sign. Certainly not the worst reaction I’ve ever seen. As your doctor, I would recommend removing the glue with this method; it will likely be more bearable than scrubbing with soap.” She cringed, emphasizing her words with greater poignancy than any tone could have. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I find myself in dire need of some breakfast. I’ll leave you to attend to our ‘invalid’,” Dr. Chakwas winked at Cass as she left the med-bay.

This left the human and the turian looking at each other, trying to look like they weren’t looking at each other.

Cass knew she would have to break the silence first, but she worried about the strain this would put on their friendship. “How do you want to go about this?” she asked gingerly.

Finally Vadix met her gaze and paused before answering. “Since my other hand hasn’t broken out in awful hives, I think the doctor may be right. If it isn’t too uncomfortable for you, I would appreciate it if you would help me with my hand.” He couldn’t maintain the eye contact, feeling too embarrassed to be asking this of his only friend on this ship.

“Of course!” the woman exclaimed. “It’s not uncomfortable for me at all. I’ve done far more—” she broke off, seeing a darkness come over his gaze. “That is, I’m happy to help you, Vadix,” reassuring him, Cass placed one hand on his upper arm, encouraging him to trust her.

Staring at her like she’d sprouted eye stalks, Vadix considered the openness of the alien in front of him. He was sure he couldn’t tell if she was lying, and the thought unnerved him. “Very well,” he whispered, offering her the palm she had not yet licked.

Carefully the human grasped the alien claws, turning his wrist so his talons pointed toward the ceiling. Then she brought his hand to her face and began to bathe his skin with her spit. The triangular plate next to his thumb felt like polished stone, mirrored by a second triangular plate which covered most of his palm. They seemed to have been frozen in place, the adhesive working as well on his hand as it did on her breasts.

Then she was thinking about what it would be like if they switched places, and he were the one licking the glue from her skin.

She shuddered, striving to remove the enticing image from her mind. _Focus_ , Cass berated herself.

Moving up his palm, she continued lapping at the edges of the small plates, this one rectangular, resting just below the bottom of his two fingers. The divots between each metallic sheet felt like velvet compared to the rigidity of his carapace.

So close to her eyes, the human scrutinized the surface of this alien’s hand. Never before had she noticed how smooth his hardened overlay was. As angular as it was, Cass would have expected it to be rough as well.

She couldn’t help but wonder how the texture would feel against her skin, all over her bare skin.

Clearing her throat, the woman corralled her attention back to her task.

“Are you alright?” Vadix asked, oblivious to the true cause of her inner battle.

“Yes, yes, fine,” she verbally waved away his concern and resumed her efforts. Now she cleaned his fingers, taking care to avoid the tips that could slice her tongue into ribbons.

Working in silence, one finger slowly wiggled loose, followed by the second, and eventually by his thumb.

“There!” Cass cried, relieved that job was over—if only so she could stop imagining what she wanted the turian to do to her.

Vadix flexed his talons, twirling them in all directions he could. “Thanks,” he grunted, voice gravelly.

The human looked at him expectantly, waiting for further instruction.

Realization dawned like a mass relay. “Hell no,” Vadix stated, emphatic. “You don’t need to do anything else, Cassana. You’ve done enough.”

Shrugging, her red hair bobbed back and forth. “It’s not difficult. I’m sure I could easily manage the rest.”

“No,” he repeated, immoveable in his decision. He absolutely would not let her tongue near any other body parts—Vadix knew he wouldn’t be able to guarantee that certain _other_ body parts wouldn’t also respond to her proximity. “I’ll just take a shower.”

With a smirk, the infuriating woman shrugged again. “If you insist. But it’s gonna take a long time, I can tell you that right now.”

Glaring at her like a stalled glacier, Vadix growled, “Whatever it takes.”


End file.
